Harry Potter and the Fae Prince
by Alpha-Knights-Fan
Summary: Harry finds that Sirius has left him a strange gift in the form of a fairy memory stone. Upon activating it, Harry discovers that there was far more to his mother than he knew. Powerful Harry/Fed up Harry Crossover with Cobalt-Blue's Earth Reforged Series. Pairings TBD. Definitely AU. Synopsis changed due to realizing I goofed on the timeline.
1. Chapter 1

After the Battle at the DoM Harry finds that Sirius has left him a strange gift in the form of a fairy memory stone. Upon activating it, Harry discovers that there was far more to his mother than he knew. Powerful Harry/Fed up Harry Crossover with Cobalt-Blue's Earth Reforged Series. Pairings TBD

Harry sat in his room at Number Four Privet Drive and tried his best to process what had happened during the battle at the DoM. He still couldn't believe that Sirius was gone, that one of his last connections to his parents had been snuffed out by the Veil of Death. _Why in the bloody hell did they have that thing there in the first place?_ he thought to himself. _And why did I have to go off half-cocked? I walked right into Tom's trap!_

He looked over to his desk where a half dozen unopened letters had been delivered. One from Ron, two from Hermione, and much to his surprise, several from Neville and Luna. But for now, he just couldn't bring himself to care about them. Right now, the cold steel gray of his loss threatened to swallow him, threatened to engulf him and pull him down into a pit of sorrow where nothing mattered.

POP! Suddenly Dobby appeared next to him. "Harry Potter sir," the house-elf said. "Dobby is on a mission from Harry Potter's godfather!"

"What? What are you talking about?" Harry asked without ever taking his eyes from the pattern of the rug that lay under his bed. "Sirius is dead."

"Lord Black told Dobby to give something to Harry if Lord Black died. Now it's time for Dobby to give it to Harry Potter."

"Give me something?" Harry asked. "What is it?"

"Dobby not know. Dobby needs Harry Potter to come with him."

"Where to?" Harry demanded.

"Gringott's," the elf said simply.

"What? Now? I'm not supposed to leave the house? I can't get to Gringotts!"

"Dobby take Harry. Aurors won't know." Then much to Harry's surprise the little elf produced an intricately carved stone and lay it on his desk. "This will make Harry Potter's minders think he's still here."

"What is it that?" Harry asked.

"Elf magic," Dobby said.

"Where did you get it?"

"Gringotts. Now, Harry Potter come with Dobby. It's important. Elf magic!"

Confused Harry rose from the small chair in the room—a cheap Tesco special, his aunt and uncle got second hand at a rubbish sale—and grabbed his trainers. Lacing them quickly, he reached under his pillow and pulled out his wand. "Gringotts, you say? And nobody will know I'm gone? What happens if we're attacked while we're out."

"Dobby will defend Harry Potter!" the elf declared seriously. And then much to his surprise, he produced a strange looking green orb with gold metal interlaced in its surface. Death Eaters won't like what Dobby has in here!"

"What is that, Dobby?"

"Fae magic! Harry Potter sir, has new friend. Lord Black arranged it."

Harry offered his hand to the small creature and said, "I don't know what you're talking about." Then shrugging, he added, "But it beats the hell out of sitting here under the watchful eye of the Order."

Suddenly the world splinched sideways and Harry found himself standing in the middle of a large office. Several goblins stood nearby, all heavily armed. The only other person in the room was a squat goblin with an exceptionally, even for a goblin, long nose. He smiled over at Harry and then bowed lowly. "Master Potter, I'm glad that you could come. I am Greenguts, Head-goblin here at Gringotts. We are keeping something here for you by the request of the late Mr. Sirius Black."

Harry remembering his matters, bowed and said, "I'm not sure what the correct goblin courtesies would be here."

Again the goblin smiled, and Harry secretly wished he wouldn't. It was one of the most unnerving sights he'd ever seen. "No courtesies are required at this time, Master Potter. I simply need to give you something. Once you've heard what it has to say then things may change, but for now, will you accept what I have for you?"

"Is it dangerous?" Harry asked.

"It's knowledge, Master Potter. All knowledge is power and therefore dangerous. However, you will not be harmed while you are here. A magic more powerful than either that of the house-elves or even the goblins assures that."

"What do I need to do?"

"Will you accept it?" the goblin asked again.

Harry nodded, swallowed, pushed up his glasses and said, "Yes."

Greenguts then reached into his desk and pulled out another stone like the one Dobby was carrying. "It's a fairy message stone."

"I don't understand."

"Fairy message stones are very old magic, Master Potter. There are very few of them left in England after the Massacre of the Bells in 1775, when King George III drove most of the fae races out of Britain."

"What is it?"

"It's a message from your godfather that he left for you. It's preserved in such a way that only you can receive it."

"What do I do?" Harry asked.

Clucking and shaking his head, Greenguts told him, "Grasp the the stone gently in your hand and think of your godfather."

Harry nodded and did as he was bade. The stone slowly began to grow warm in his hands, as Sirius appeared before him. Harry could not only see him and hear him, but could feel his magic, and even smell him. "Harry," Sirius began Harry fought to swallow the mass of emotions that suddenly lodged in his throat.

"If you're using this stone, then that means I'm dead, and you-know-who is coming for you. But, all isn't lost. There was more than one secret kept by the Marauders, and this secret was your mom's, bless her soul." Then he laughed at some secret joke that only he seemed to understand.

"Old Tom has no idea how badly he's really screwed the pooch. Dumbledore forbade me to tell you any of this, so naturally I'm going to anyway." He smiled mischievously and said, "Because I'm just that kind of guy. But, seriously, there are forces that you can bring to bear here that Dumbledore doesn't want involved. I think they need to be involved, even if it means half the British wizards end up blown to hell and back."

Sirius continued, "There is a reason that your mother was not truly muggle-born. I don't fully understand it myself, but I know for a fact that the so-called blood wards around Privet Drive are more than useless. You are no blood-kin to that woman. Your mother was a faeling, a fae child switched at birth for a mortal child. When her magic came to fruition and it was time to go back to the fae, she chose to stay, to live out her life as a member of the wizarding world of Britain."

"Now, I know you're wondering what all this is supposed to mean. Well, I was her secret keeper on this. Not even your father knew. She told me that should something happen to you, to tell you what was going on, and to give you the means to call her family, your family for aid. I'm doing that now."

He paused for a moment and let what he was saying sink in. Harry was trying to process it all. He was under the impression that there were no fae in Britain. How could his mother be one? Finally, Sirius continued. "If you want to contact your family; to ask them for their help, for their protection, then simply give this stone back to Greenguts. He will know what to do. But be warned. The aid of the fae will not come lightly. And it will change things in you that will make you not quite mortal anymore. You will discover things about yourself and about your family and even your friends with which you may not yet be comfortable. It is up to you. Good luck Harry. I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Sirius disappeared from his mind and Harry felt his senses return to the room. Greenguts and Dobby were staring at him. "Is everything all right, Mister Potter."

Harry nodded and handed him the stone back without thinking of what he was doing.

"Does this mean you wish to proceed?" Greenguts asked.

Again, still in shock, Harry nodded. "In for a penny, in for a pound."

"I don't understand."

"Sorry, muggle saying. I guess the equivalent would be in for a knut, in for a galleon."

"Very well," Greenguts replied. Then taking the stone in his hand, he touched several places on its surface.

Suddenly, there was a glowing sphere of light in the room and a young being like Harry had never seen before appeared in the light. He was short and thin, and dressed in a dark blue suit cut in the style of the regency period. A set of black cats ears sat atop his head and a matching black tail snaked out from behind him. In his right hand was a cane with a crystal headpiece shaped like a rose. Harry noted that there was a deep blue webbing between his fingers. He was quite handsome, if on the small side. Immediately Dobby bowed deeply to this man's presence.

Turning to look at Harry, the newcomer said, "So you are might Aunt Lily's son?" Then looking to the ceiling he said sarcastically, "Mother, Fathers, I've asked you to stop doing this to me, please. But as my wishes are not taken into account, I might as well proceed."

"I'm sorry," Harry said in shock. "I hadn't meant to be any trouble."

The man smiled and Harry noted the his sharp canines. "Oh, but you are, Harry Potter. You're a great deal of trouble, and I think it's going to be loads of fun." Then offering his hand he said, "I am Hunter Daire. I believe your mother and my mother were sisters."

"I thought Petunia was Mother's only sister."

"Petunia?"

"Petunia Dursely nee Evans?" Harry asked.

"Oh, you mean the mortal with whom Lily grew up? They are of no blood relations."

"But Professor Dumbledore said..."

"Dumbledore?" Daire asked turning to Greenguts.

"Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Your Royal Highness." the goblin replied.

"Royal Highness?" Harry asked. "Can someone please explain things to me?" Then remembering the title quickly added, "Am I supposed to bow or something?"

"Please don't," Daire said. Then with a sigh, he said, "First off, let me correct my own bad manners." Once again, he offered Harry his hand, who this time took it and found the shake to be firm. "Like I said, my name is Hunter Daire. I actually hold several titles, one of which is unfortunately heir presumptive of the Winter Throne of Feyhold."

Harry shook his head and said, "Never heard of it."

Much to his surprise, Daire winked and replied, "To be honest, you would be better off not knowing. But to get anything done, sometimes I have to use them." Then turning to Greenguts he asked, "Did my illustrious aunt have a vault in this establishment from Feyhold?"

"She does, Highness. However, I'm afraid that to access it, Master Potter will have to accept his birthright."

Daire nodded and turned to Harry. His tone became quite plain spoke and serious. "Harry, exactly what do you want out of this meeting?"

Harry shrugged and said, "I don't know. Sirius said you could help me defeat Voldemort."

"Is that all?"

"I would like to know more about my parents. I've been told next to nothing about them."

Daire nodded and said, "I understand. When a faeling decides to stay in the mortal realm, then there are certain changes that has to happen to allow them to live safely here. Among them is hiding what they are so that the traditional weaknesses of the fae cannot be used against them. They give up part of their life so as to be safe from such things."

"Weaknesses?"

"Look around you, Harry. What substances dominate this room?"

Harry looked at the marble and stone walls inlaid with iron runes, the steel desk, the iron sconces on the walls, and even the armor. "Stone and steel," Harry said.

"Not just any steel," Daire said tracing one of the runes on the ground with his boot. "Cold iron. It disrupts fae magic."

"But seems to not affect you," Harry said.

"Quite perceptive," he told him. "Two things there. The first is that like you, I'm not entirely fae and the substance to which I'm vulnerable is completely different. The second is it is only coming into contact with my boot, not my skin."

"So I won't be able to handle cold-iron?" Harry asked.

"It will make you feel uncomfortable, not unlike a mild electric shock. It won't affect the magic you've learned so far, but it _will_ disrupt any fae magic you cast, and it can trap you here, so that you can't cross into fairy."

"I can't cross into fairy now," Harry said. "Wherever that is."

Daire smiled again and said, "One place you can go where this Voldemort cannot follow you easily, and should he manage to do so, he may find himself unable to return in his own time."

"I want to know more."

Daire took a deep breath and looked over to Greenguts, "Does he have any idea what he's getting into?"

"I think not, Highness. The wizards in Britain are a sorry lot. As a whole, they keep not their word, and they have forgotten the old ways."

Clucking softly, Daire said. "By accepting your birthright, you will have access to your fae powers, I can teach you fae magic, a power this Voldemort will not understand and be incapable of safely using, and I can show you how to cross over into fairy. But it will come at the price of a vulnerability to cold-iron, and you should never conjure food for your friends."

"I can't conjure food now," Harry said. "No wizard can."

Daire looked at Greenguts, a questioning look on his face. "They can't?"

"No, Highness."

"Then I won't be missing a power I don't have," Harry said.

"I said you should never do it, not that you can't." Daire replied. "Fey food has peculiar effects on humans. Sometimes it unsticks them from time."

Harry nodded and said, "So cold iron will shock me, and will disrupt fae magic, is that all?"

"That's enough," Daire said.

"And Voldemort won't be able to counter it?"

"He won't be able to use it. Not without shaving years off his life with every spell. Countering it is a different story. There are several ways to counter it, but most make the person look so silly that they aren't willing to go to those lengths."

"Okay," Harry said.

"Okay what?" Daire asked.

"I accept my birthright. I've got nothing to lose. So far I've been attacked every year at school. I've been harassed, assaulted, and mind raped. I'm sick of being the victim. I'm sick of being blindsided, and I'm sick of being a target. It's time I went on offense."

Daire smiled and said, "I like that. I've been where you are, and I understand completely. If you wish, we will proceed immediately, and then Greenguts here can show you to your vault."

"Your Highness should know that accepting his birthright will show up in the Ministry of Magic's rolls."

Daire's smile became cold and calculating. "Good. I've been reading up about the history of the wizarding world in Britain. Perhaps it's time that they once again learn to respect the magic of the fae." Looking to Harry, the expression once again became casual and even caring. "Whenever you are ready to begin, young cousin."

Harry nodded nervously and said, "You wouldn't hurt a relative, would you?"

Daire laughed and said, "It's a little late to be asking that. But no. I wouldn't. That doesn't necessarily apply to other family members. My father had forty-seven brothers and sisters. Amongst themselves they managed to kill off all but eight fighting for the Summer Throne."

"Will this change me physically?" Harry asked indicating the tail coming from behind Daire.

He smiled and said, "You won't grow a tail and ears if that's what you mean? Not unless you want to. My mother's, both my fathers' and my ennends' line are all shapeshifters. If you have the gift is something that remains to be seen, and to be developed. It will change our build slightly." He looked at Harry appraisingly and added, "But only slightly. It will heal the damage done to your body, and probably slowly correct the obvious signs of malnutrition of which I see significant evidence."

"My aunt Petunia doesn't feed me regularly."

" _That_ will cease immediately," Daire said coldly. "No cousin of mine will be mistreated. By anyone."

Harry chuckled and said, "I appreciate that. Will this hurt?"

"I don't think so." Then with a surprising gentleness, the fae prince reached out and touched Harry's face. Harry felt a jolt of electricity run down his body and throughout his skin. His cousin gently stroked his jawline, his brows, and traced along Harry's ears. Harry felt the world shudder underneath him, and his body reacted to the touch in a way that he genuinely hoped would not show through the front of his jeans. ~ _Don't worry, it's not an uncommon reaction,_ ~ Daire's mind said to his as Harry felt himself plunge over the edge of ecstasy. Then just as quickly his scar began to burn and sear. He felt something hot and dark suddenly begin to writhe above his brow, and he sank to his knees as whatever caused the pain erupted from beneath the skin of his scar.

Harry felt Daire catch him with one surprisingly strong arm, as the other seemed to weave something in the air. There was a god awful screech of pain and anger filling the room. Then in a flash of light, it suddenly ceased, and Harry felt a shudder of pleasure once again rushed through his body.

When he came back to his senses, Daire smiled at him and asked, "Enjoy that, did you?" Feeling weak in the knees, all Harry could do was nod. "Don't worry, it's over, and I shan't need to touch you like that again." Then looking to Dobby he raised an eyebrow. "Please bring us a mirror."

POP!

POP!

Dobby disappeared and just as quickly reappeared with a large full-length mirror, as Daire directed Harry by the shoulders to face it. What Harry saw was a surprising change. His features had shifted ever-so-sublty. They were just a bit more vulpine, his nose thinner, his chin a bit more pointed, and his ears had definite points to them. His fingers were long and delicate and his normally uncontrollable raven hair was now shoulder length with streaks of deep auburn running through them. His eyes sparkled emerald green from under his brows.

"Now we can go to your vault, My Lord," Greenguts said.

"What just happened?" Harry asked weakly.

"You had a piece of someone else's soul intertwined with yours. As it was mortal, it could not bear being in such proximity to a fae soul so it sought to escape. I captured it in a stone for later study."

Harry reached up and gingerly touched the skin on his forehead. The scar was still there, but it only felt like flesh now, not the darkness he'd sensed hiding in it. "Please." Then remembering what Greenguts said, he asked, "My Lord?"

"By accepting your birthright, you also accepted your mother's title."

"My mother's title?"

"I believe the Lady Evans was a countess?" Greenguts asked.

"That is what my mother tells me. By accepting your birthright, you activated the old title," Daire replied. "Welcome to the Kingmaker's line. As far as I can tell, only you, me, Mother, and my baby brother are left in it."

"Somehow Count Harry Potter doesn't sound right," Harry replied.

"As it should not. For reasons of language, much like in Britain, among the fae, the title of Count is the equivalent of an Earl. So you would be Lord Harry Potter, Earl of Murias, not Count Potter."

Remembering an old movie he'd watched through the crack of his cupboard, he said, "Beats Count de Money."

"So it does, Cousin. So it does."

"The trip to the vault was longer and deeper than any Harry had ever taken. He was surprised when the car finally stopped to reveal a large vault with Celtic symbols carved in the door. Greenguts handed Harry one of two keys he had. He placed the other in the lock and waited for Harry to follow suit. When the locks turned there was a great grinding and a mass of magic engulfed the trio.

Harry could feel it rush through his body, studying him and seeming to like what it found. There was a vibration at the finger of Harry's right hand and then a weight appeared there. Looking down, he saw a gold signet ring with a pair of deep blue gems installed on either side of the flat plate of the signet. "The signet of Murias, My Lord," Greenguts said.

When the door swung open, Harry saw row after row of neatly stacked coins in the vault, far more than he'd seen in the Potter vault. There were weapons, gems, scrolls, books, furniture, and even several suits of armor. "I don't understand," Harry said.

"When your mother gave up her birthright, this vault was sealed waiting for the next Earl of Murias. That would now be you."

"I wasn't looking for wealth," Harry protested.

Daire laughed and said, "I understand. But a certain percentage of the taxes from your Earldom has been placed in here for the last twenty plus years. You've had quite a savings plan going without knowing it."

"There's more," Greenguts said.

"More?"

"Oh?" Daire asked.

"Young Master Potter is also the heir to the Black family vaults. I cannot reveal all the details of Sirius Black's will, but I can say this much. Between the Potter Vaults, the Black Vault, and this one, Lord Murias is wealthier than any three other wizard family's combined."

Daire just smiled again. "Good."

"You will be needing this then," Greenguts handed Harry a key from the wall. "It is the key to the Murias family estate outside of Exeter." He stopped looked at Daire, and asked, "I am assuming you're assuming guardianship of Lord Murias?"

"Not so much control as I'm getting him of the situation where he's being starved." He spoke to the air and said, "Dobby!"

POP! Dobby appeared and asked, "Your Highness?"

"Are you Harry's brownie?"

"Dobby is free brownie."

"Brownie?" Harry asked.

"House-elves are not true elves. They're brownies. The vikings called them house-wights." He looked at Dobby and asked, "Free you say?"

"Free. Harry Potter tricked Dobby's master into freeing him. Dobby serves Harry Potter but is not bound to Harry Potter."

Daire winced. "That must hurt."

"Harry Potter does not understand," Dobby said.

"Are you willing to serve a fae Lord in the person of Harry Potter?" Daire asked. "With all that entails?"

"Dobby would be honored Highness!" The house-elf sounded far too excited about this for Harry's tastes, but he remained silent.

Daire nodded and said, "Then we will arrange for it. Go to Harry's home in Surrey, collect everything there that belongs to him and take it to the ancestral home at Exeter. Can you do that?"

"Dobby will do it!"

POP! He disappeared.

"I don't want Dobby as a slave," Harry protested.

"And you aren't getting him as one. In exchange for being bound to a very noble house where he will happily work and see to your needs, he's getting the security of the land. It will strengthen his magic, his life force, and maybe even yours." Daire sighed and said, "But we must travel there soon to wake the staff."

"So much is happening so fast," Harry complained.

"It will soon begin to snowball, Cousin. We have to stay ahead of it. Soon we will begin with your training in fae magic, and other gifts with which you are nearly bursting. But first I wish a word with this Professor Dumbledore, and this Order of the Phoenix. I don't have so many family members that I can appreciate having them set up to be killed."


	2. The Ninth Lord of Murias

**AN/ First, let me say thanks to all who've read, followed, and especially reviewed. I've struggled with how I wanted to handle crossovers with my favorite novel series: Earth Reforged by Cobalt-Blue. I hope I'm doing justice to his characters. Although as you can tell by my name, the Alpha Knights are my favorite team, but Hunter Daire is one of my favorite characters. My first two attempts at crossovers didn't seem to go anywhere, so I removed them. This one on the other hand seems to be writing itself. As for pairings and such: I am unsure how I want to handle some of Rowlings characters. I have a genuine dislike for Dumbledore, and Hermione. I'm ambivalent leaning toward animosity as far as Ron and Malfoy go. I LIKE Luna and Neville, and the twins, and McGonagall. I really dislike Ginny, and as a former teacher of children myself, I think that Snape needs to rot in hell. So, I'm asking you as the reader: How would you like to see Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy handled? What pairings would you like to see? Which characters from Earth Reforged should I have make guest appearances?**

 **Diolch**

 **Alpha Knights Fan**

The trip to Exeter had been through a glowing bubble of light that had passed through solid objects and flew over the English countryside at an alarming velocity before settling into a field just off Honiton Road. Before them stretched several rolling fields, each one separated by either low stone walls or hedgerows. As the bubble collapsed around them, Harry looked to Daire and asked, "Won't the muggles notice that?"

The fae prince smiled mischievously. "No. It's glamoured to be invisible."

Looking at the field, Harry asked, "Are we in the right place?"

"It's there, Harry. You just have to learn how to see it. You have to learn to use your othersight."

"Othersight?"

"Your mage sight." Daire reached up and touched Harry's temple. "Now let your eyes go slightly out of focus."

Harry did as he was bade as he felt his cousin's mind touch his again. Then a wave of magic seemed to wash over the world, burning away the mundane scene before him to reveal a well-preserved regency era manor house. "Wow!" the breath seemed to catch in Harry's throat.

"A home fit for a Lord," Daire said. "Well not quite. It probably needs to be updated to the late twentieth century. But you understand what I mean."

"How...?"

"A fae glamour."

Harry noted several lines of blue-white energy snaking across the land, two of which converged on the manor giving it an eerie glow to his vision. What am I seeing?"

Daire grinned and said, "A whole new world, Cousin. A whole new world. With his hand, he traced where the lines of energy came into and left the house and said, "Those are ley-lines. Naturally occurring lines of power and magic. Our grandmother built this house where they cross, and where the magic pools. It powers the house's wards, its glamour, and even its heating and light system. Even without modern electricity, it will be quite comfortable."

At the words ' _our grandmother_ ' Harry felt his emotions once again rise in his throat. Family! The idea of a real family, something he'd never thought he'd have, suddenly rose up and threatened to drown his vision. "Is she still alive?"

Daire nodded and said, "Yes, she is. But you should probably wait for a while before you meet her. She takes some getting used to. We are after all of the unseelie court."

"Hence your ears and tail?" Harry asked.

"Not quite, but that's a different tale for another time. As I told you, I am not entirely fae either, and trust me, that comes with its own set of problems."

"Still, to know I have family..."

"You do, cousin. You do." The smaller man put an arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him close with surprising strength. "Trust me, I know how you feel right now. I was raised to believe that I had no family, that I was adopted. But my adoptive parents turned out to be my real ones, and I always knew love even if I didn't know it was blood. Now, here, you will be safe from this Dumblemort."

"That's Voldemort. Dumbledore is my headmaster."

"They sound one and the same," Daire said darkly. "And I will be dealing with your headmaster as soon as I get you settled here, safe and sound. Like I said, I don't have so much family that I will tolerate having even one of them set up to be killed."

"Be killed?"

"We'll talk about it later. For now, let's go see if the staff has awakened."

Still dumbfounded by the suddenness of how things were changing, he quietly followed Daire up the long cobblestone drive. Arriving at a huge pair of double doors, complete with a bronze inlay that depicted the Lady of the Lake handing Arthur his sword Daire shook his head and said, "Traitor."

"I beg your pardon?"

Daire blushed and frowned. "Vivienne was a traitor to the fae. She gave Arthur and Merlin the power to weaken the fae, and to begin to slowly drive the worship of the Tuatha de Danann out of Britain."

"I thought Merlin was a hero."

'In his own mind, perhaps," Daire said. "But Merlin was the son of a tavern whore and an incubus. It was this power that made him such a powerful wizard. To the wizards he might be a hero, but to us, he's simply the bastard offspring of a lust demon and a tavern whore."

Harry shook his head, and said, "I have a lot to learn." Then taking the key from his pocket, he inserted it into the lock and turned it. Much to his surprise, the inlay shifted and the sword became something vulgar with which to violate the ancient British king. Then it all pulled back into the wood as the doors swung open.

Looking at the inlay now lining the side of the door, Daire said, "Grandmother has a peculiar sense of humor."

Much like in the vault, the magic of the house reached out and touched both Daire and Harry, playing over their bodies, exploring them and their magic. Harry suddenly caught the image of a blue faced crone with iron nails staring at them, and then chuckling in appreciation. Finally the magic settled onto Harry's signet ring and then flashed away. Small globes of light placed in strategic places around the main foyer suddenly glowed to light.

POP!

A thin man wearing a Regency era livery suddenly appeared in front of them. He was middle aged, and quite distinguished looking with his blond hair pulled back and tied with a ribbon at his neck. His features were quite vulpine, being long and delicate, and he, like Daire barely cleared five feet. He bowed and said, "Good day, Lord Potter, Your Grace, Grand Prion Daire. Welcome to Muriashome. I am Lugh, your estate captain. Please be patient, My Lords as the staff is only now awakening with Lord Potter assuming the mantel of Earl of Murias."

"Understood," Daire said. "How is the larder stocked?"

"Fully as it was left in 1775, My Lord."

"Very well, this is Lord Harry Potter the Ninth Earl of Murias. He has been poorly used by both the mortals of Britain and by the British wizards. He needs a hot meal, several really, a tailor, a valet, and to have his rooms prepared. A brownie by the name of Dobby has agreed to serve this house and will be arriving with Lord Potter's things soon. See that they are properly cared for and unpacked. I have some things that I must attend to make sure Lord Potter remains safe."

Lugh first looked to Daire and then to Harry as if waiting. Finally, Harry shrugged and said, "Please."

Lugh nodded and said, "I will make it so. Please forgive my impertinence My Lord, but you seem unaware of how to make your wishes known, or when to make them so. Am I to understand by His Royal Highness' term poorly used', that means you are unaware of such things?"

"Yes," Harry said blushing. "I'm afraid I'm quite ignorant of these things." He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice.

Lugh smiled and said, "Ignorance can be rectified with knowledge My Lord. But it takes wisdom and bravery to recognize when one does not know, and even more so to correct the situation." Turning to Daire he asked, "Is there anything else I should know, Your Royal Highness?"

"Just that there is a wizard out to do him some harm. See to my cousin's safety. I am going to talk to a teacher about a prophecy."  
"As you wish."

"You know about the prophecy?" Harry asked.

"Only from touching your mind when I activated your birthright. That is something I need to discuss with this Dumbledore." He frowned and asked, "Tell me, is this Hogwarts important to you?"

"It's the closest thing I've known to a real home for the last five years."

Daire nodded and said, "Then perhaps I should leave it still standing." He shook his head and turned to leave. "Is there anything you should need from London?"

Harry shook his head and said, "No. Not at this time. What if the Death Eaters come?"

"Death Eaters?"

"Voldemort's followers," Harry said.

"Not here, they won't," Daire told him. "If they should track you to this house and try to force entry, their bones may eventually be found, but I somehow doubt it." He looked out to the small bridge crossing a stream at the edge of the property. "How do you get on with trolls?"

"Last one tried to kill me."

"I suspect that won't be the case much more. Come here, Cousin."

Harry came to the door and stood by the fae prince. He nodded with his head to the small bridge in the distance. "See that?"

Much to Harry's surprise, he watched a large troll dressed in a livery crawl out from under the bridge, look around and shrug. Then the huge brute squinted in the direction of the house and waved in a quite friendly manner. "There is a reason that we of the unseelie court tend to build our homes surrounded by small streams. Not only does it keep out the vampires, it gives us a place to build homes for trolls, who are quite fond of making sure we are unmolested." Then much to Harry's surprise, Daire leaned up and gently kissed him on the cheek. "I will return shortly, Harry. Be well. Eat, and let Lugh and the house pamper you. You deserve it." Then much to Harry surprise, he leaned up and gently kissed Harry on the cheek again, just before disappearing.

Harry reached up and touched his cheek and wondered aloud, "Is that the normal parting between men of the fae?"

"Grand Prion Daire is not simply a man, Lord Potter," Lugh said. "Xe is both male and female."

"Simultaneously?" Harry asked.

"Yes, My Lord. Xe is not entirely fae, and comes from a wonderful and powerful joining of the three bloodlines of Feyhold."

"Xe?" Harry asked.

"Xe, xem, xyr," Lugh said. "Pronouns among the fae, daeoni and merfolk for those who are both genders simultaneously. Now if you will follow me, I've been given instructions to see to your comfort, your safety, and to prepare you a meal."

Harry allowed himself to be led from the foyer into a large formal dining room. Upon the table was a meal that very much reminded him of images he'd seen of American Thanksgiving feasts. His mouth began to water, and he heard his stomach growl.

"If it pleases My Lord, I will attempt to guide him in his understanding of how the household works, and how to make his wishes known to the staff, while he dines?"

Harry laughed and said, "Lugh, you have just done the one thing that nobody in the wizarding world ever did for me. Offered to explain things to me. Thank you."

"It would be of ill-service to the House of Murias for me to do less, My Lord."

"Evidently the wizarding world doesn't feel so."

"The mortal wizards are a strange lot, waving sticks in the air and screaming at each other. If one did not know better, one would swear that they were playing golf."

* * *

"Minister! Minister!" Undersecretary Fiona Grainford came bursting into Cornelius Fudge's office with a scroll in her hand.

"What is it, Grainford?" Fudge asked annoyed at having been disturbed.

The witch of African descent lay the parchment on his desk. "One of the fae titles has become active, Minister!"

"What?" Fudge said sitting up in his chair. "How? When?"

"This morning, Minister. Here." She pointed to the parchment where gold letters gleamed back at him.

 **The great and noble house of Murias is pleased to announce that there is a new Lord of the Manor. By act of blood and birthright, the great grandson of Lady Bridget de Danann has assumed the mantle of the Ninth Lord of Murias. This house status has been recorded with Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II's government, with the Ministry of Magic of the British Wizarding World, and with the government of King Oberon, and Queen Mabd of Feyhold. Please make a note of this change of status.**

"Dear sweet Merlin, Morgana, and Shipton. If the fae have returned to Britain, then they can seriously change the balance of power." He looked a the parchment closely, his lips moving slightly as they read the missive again. "I thought that Titania was currently queen of the fae. It is after all, past the vernal equinox."

"The title of Earl of Murias is an unseelie title, Minister," Grainford said. "It would be recorded under the title of the monarch who controls it. She is Mabd during the winter months and Titania during the summer, but as this title falls completely under her control, it would be her government that would be named."

Fudge nodded and considered what the woman had told him. "Unseelie? Oh dear."

"There is more, Minister."

With a sense of dread he said, "Go on."

"The House of Murias is a cadet house of the Kingmaker's line," Grainford said.

"Not good. I will need to inform the Prime Minister." He looked at Grainford, "Any idea who this new Lord of Murias is?"

"Not yet Minister. We've sent a request to Feyhold to identify a name, but they are notoriously slow in answering our requests."

"What should we do, Minister?"

"Nothing for now. Perhaps it is simply a fae who is passing through Britain and wishes to use the house." He sat and considered his options.

"There are still fae who remember the Massacre of the Bells, Minister."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I take a paper from Feyhold, Minister. Things have been in an uproar there for last decades or so. There's a new heir presumptive to the Winter Throne, and an assassination attempt on the heir to the Star Throne."

"Refresh my memory on the Massacre of the Bells, Grainford. I hate to admit it, but I slept through most of Professor Binns' classes, even when he was still alive."

Grainford nodded and said, "It happened just before the American Rebellion. The fae were still a part of British wizarding life, and there was relative peace between those of fae blood and the wizarding families. Then King George III came under the influence of a vampire by the name of Draculesti. The muggles believe he suffered from a muggle disease called porphyria, but we know better. Draculesti convinced the King that the fae, the daeoni, and the merfolk were about to break with the crown and support the American colonies in their bid for independence. With the help of several wizarding families with ties to the royal family, King George decided to strike first. In a single night, his wizard backed troops rounded up every one of those races he could find and executed them, all the time ringing every bell in London in some strange hope of granting them a Christian soul before sending them to heaven. Those that escaped _did_ leave Britain and took most of the fae races with them. They decided that they had common cause with the Americans after all, and aided in the rebellion that led to American independence."

Fudge nodded and said, "Thank you. I appreciate the update."

"What now, Minister?"

The minister rose from his chair and said, "I will be visiting Number 10 Downing Street. The Prime Minister needs to know."

"Yes, Minister."

"Until I return, keep this information under your hat."

"Yes, Minister."

* * *

At Number Four Privet Drive, a fresh bowl of strawberries appeared in the refrigerator.

* * *

"What has happened with Potter?!" the dark lord demanded as he concentrated on Severus' dark mark, forcing a burning pain throughout the potions professor's body.

After the pain subsided, Severus panted for several seconds, pushing the dark lord's patience to its edge. "I do not know My Lord. The last report we have is that as of this morning, he is reading a book in his home." Severus did his level best to keep his voice neutral.

"Tell me, Snivellus," Voldemort demanded, "Then why cannot I sense his mind? Why do I only see darkness when I focus on him? Have you finally succeeded in teaching him the arts of occlumency?"

"No My Lord," Severus insisted. "The Potter brat doesn't have the mental discipline to understand even its basics!"

"Then how is it he has cut me off from his mind?"

"I do not know, My Lord. I will investigate this immediately."

"Do that Snivellus," Voldemort said, his voice tired an distracted. "Find out and report to me!"

Severus escaped from the room as quickly as possible. This had been a particularly painful interrogation, but he'd noticed that the dark lord's mind was not as strong against his as was usual. Something had seriously set back the dark lord's plans. Safely behind his occlumency shields, he knew he had to inform Dumbledore.

Still in pain from the cruciatus, Snape barely had the energy to apparate to his own home at Spinner's End. There he was able to slowly gain control of himself as his over-stimulated nerves began to flare less, as his muscles slowly relaxed from hours of writhing in pain, and as his senses slowly returned to him. "What has that brat done now?" He demanded as he looked into the mirror.

Running water in the sink, he washed his face and stared at the gaunt form that stared back at him with cold dead eyes. "What have you done, Harry Potter that has so weakened the dark lord?"

It was nearly an hour later after a hot bath and a meal that he'd returned to Hogwarts to speak with the headmaster. Entering the headmaster's office, Dumbledore looked up at him and exclaimed, "Dear god, Severus, what has happened?"

Severus frowned and said, "Potter has learned to block the dark lord from his mind. He was not pleased to discover this."

"Block him from his mind? How? I thought the occlumency work was fruitless."

"So did I, Headmaster. But the dark lord claims that he can no longer sense Potter."

Before the headmaster could reply, Nymphadora Tonks entered the office, "Professor! Harry is gone!"

"Gone!? Where?" Dumbledore demanded as Snape turned around to face the young auror.

"If I knew, I would have told you where," the woman said. "Suddenly, our scans said he wasn't there. When we went to check on him we found his room to be cleaned and scourgified. There was nothing in it to suggest he was ever there."

"How?" Dumbledore asked. Snape wondered if the old man was ever going to ask anything other than one syllable questions.

"Again, if I knew how, I would have told you, Professor," Nymphadora said rather cheekily.

"Have you asked the Dursley's if they know where he went?"

"Currently they are in St. Mungo's," Nymphadora said. "We found them dancing uncontrollably in their kitchen. Evidently someone placed a very powerful dancing charm on a bowl of strawberries. The healers at the hospital can't seem to break the compulsion. They can only sedate them for a short while to give them a rest."

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said. "This is what I want you to do, Nymphadora. Go to St. Mungo's and tell them to strip the Dursley's and turn their clothing inside out before redressing them with it."

"Professor!" Nymphadora objected.

"Just do it. They'll understand." Then turning to the wall, he muttered, "Sirius, what have you done?"

"What is it Headmaster?" Snape asked concerned.

"I'm afraid that Sirius may have brought a new force into this war, one that could destroy us all, Severus. Please go get Minerva. I think this might require a woman's touch."


	3. Snape and Sorrows

**AN/ I was hoping for some feedback on my questions before I finished this chapter. I'm really interested in how the readers think I should treat Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, etc... Also which characters from Earth Reforged you would like to see make guest appearances. For now, I'm considering Sean Matthews, Morgan Blake, and maybe Commander Greenbough?**

Grand Prion Hunter Daire, heir presumptive to the Winter Throne landed outside of the great castle in the Scottish Highlands. The castle had been hidden behind powerful glamour charms, and was supposedly undetectable by magical means. However, there were more than magical means available to Hunter. Satellite photos could reveal a multitude of sins, if one knew what one was looking for. Large blank areas where roads and trains traveled but no buildings showed was a good guess. These of course were usually "fuzzed out", and were government top security sites, but Hunter had long ago figured out how to tell which ones were glamoured with magic. All that was necessary after that point was to simply determine which one was the right target.

Looking across the large stone bridge that spanned a deep cavern, Hunter checked his own form and wards so as to not give away too much too soon, not the least of which was his unusual gender status. Reaching out with his hand, he felt the wards of the school push back against him. Studying them, he came to realize that they were the top of the line in mortal magic, and no human mage on their own could batter them down. Of course, Hunter could use fae magic to pass through them, with a great deal of effort, or even much easier with daeoni matrix magic, but that would be bad form. He was not here to start a fight with the wizarding world. He was here to ascertain exactly what was being done to protect his cousin from the ravages of this Dumblemort person, or was it Voldedore?

So choosing the diplomatic approach, one he'd become rather accustomed to using of late, he reached out and with his mind and called, ~ _Hail the Castle!_ ~

~ _Who comes knocking at the door of Hogwarts?_ ~ a voice answered. This was no mortal voice. It was the immortal mind of the castle itself.

~ _Grand Prion Hunter Daire, Duke of Mynnyd and the Western Isles, Heir Presumptive to the Winter Throne, and cousin to Lord Harry Potter Ninth Earl of Murias_.~

~ _I will inform the Headmaster that he has a visitor, Your Highness._ ~

~ _Thank you._ ~

It was several long moments before a tall man with greasy raven hair came swooping across the bridge. He had an unhealthy look about him, and Hunter's othersight informed him that he had a spiritual connection to the piece of soul that had been hiding in poor Harry's scar. "I am Severus Snape, Your Highness. Potions master here at Hogwarts. Headmaster Dumbledore has asked me to conduct you across the wards and to his office."

Hunter, his mind already in diplomatic mode, gave the man a gracious nod and said, "Thank you, Potions Master."

"Professor Snape is fine, Your Highness." Hunter allowed his mind to drift out to this man's. He had better shields than most mortal wizards he'd met in the past, but there were still leaks, and he quickly cataloged several routes past them. Snape was accustomed to fighting against legilimency, not true psionics, and definitely not those of a Startyri daeoni. From what was leaking through his shields, it was clear that this man was bitter, vindictive, slightly mad and extremely terrified.

Entering the castle through the double doors, Hunter could feel the veil of death close about this place. Many powerful beings had died here, and still others were housed in its halls. It set off his own death sense and left him ill-at-ease. Still he soldiered on, following the man who moved like some great bat through the hall to a circular staircase. "This way, Your Highness."

Hunter followed the man up two flights of stairs to a landing where sat a large stone gargoyle. Hunter immediately recognized that this was not a statue of a gargoyle, but the real thing. Remembering his lessons with his mother and the gargoyles that frequently made changes and repairs to her home, Castle Winterglen, he spoke in their language. / _Greetings, shaper of stones._ /

Much to Professor Snape's surprise, the gargoyle opened its eye and spoke back in a thick voice reminiscent of wind echoing through stone corridors. / _What mortal speaks the language of the stone folk?_ /

/ _Not mortal, Shaper, but daeoni and fae._ /

The gargoyle stopped to study Hunter for long moments while Snape stared in shock. / _You have the markings of all four tyries of the daeoni, and the smell of fae magic. Would you perhaps be the spawn of Lady Jordan of Castle Winterglen?_ /

/ _I have that honor_ ,/ Hunter replied.

Then in English, the gargoyle said, "The headmaster bids you enter. Welcome to my private domain, Jordanspawn. May the earth shape you well."

"It's never done that before," Professor Snape said in awe.

Hunter nodded and said, "Thank you, Shaper of Stone." Then, turning to Snape, he replied, "He knows my mother," Hunter replied and did not further explain as the gargoyle stepped aside to reveal a large circular room beyond. In it, behind a large desk sat a large older man. Next to the great desk was a perch with an Egyptian phoenix resting upon it.

"Headmaster, your visitor."

The old man stood and stared at Hunter for long moments. "You are not as I expected you to be, Highness."

"And what did you expect?" Hunter asked entering the room.

"You have much more of a mortal appearance than to any of the fae I've met over the decades."

"I am not entirely fae, Headmaster. I am as much daeoni and merfolk as I am fae."

"And not mortal at all?"

Hunter smiled and said, "Not human."

"How can I help you, Highness?"

"I am here about my cousin, Harry Potter."

"I see," Dumbledore answered. "Sirius carried out his threat, after all. I am disappointed in him."

"Be glad that he did," Hunter replied. "The loss of my aunt already pains my mother. The loss of her son would have been more than she could have tolerated. When she was finished, this country might no longer be above the waves."

Dumbledore frowned and turned to Professor Snape. "Will you excuse us, Severus?"

"I would prefer the potions master stay," Hunter replied surprising both men.

"Surprising," Dumbledore said. "May I ask why?"

Hunter turned and looked at the gaunt man, and said, "I understand that there's been some unpleasantness between him and my cousin. I would like to discuss it as well. As the blood rite of ascension has been performed, I am now assuming guardianship of my cousin until he is of legal age."

"You can't do that!" the potions master exclaimed.

"Why not? My cousin is no longer quite mortal himself."

"Well, for one, he would fall under the jurisdiction of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures ," Snape said with a sneer.

"I see," Hunter replied. "Then perhaps I should simply take him from this island nation to my own. My mother would probably spend the next twenty or so years fawning over him like the lost faeling he is."

"But the prophecy!" Dumbledore protested.

"What care I of a mortal prophecy, Headmaster?" Daire said. "My cousin has expressed to me his despair over having been kept in the dark, attacked every year at this school, of having been manipulated, starved, and ..." he paused and looked at the potions master and said coldly, "and having his mind repeatedly violated against his will."

"Hardly an accurate term..." Snape protested.

"Really? Would you care to give it a try, potions master?" he asked coldly. I've already slipped into your mind several times since we met on the bridge. I know all your defenses. I can crush your will with a thought, or leave you a blank slate, all that you are, all that you know, gone forever." The potions master shuddered.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps we can reach an understanding."

"Go nowhere, potions master. You and I will be having a talk." Hunter then turned to face Dumbledore and his face went back into diplomatic mode. "Please proceed."

"First may I ask, if you were responsible for what happened to the Dursleys?"

"I simply made a gift to them of some strawberries I conjured."

"And charmed them to dance?" Snape accused.

"No, potions master. I conjured the strawberries and left them in their refrigerator."

"Refrigerator?" Snape asked looking to Dumbledore.

"A muggle device for keeping food cold and fresh."

"Why would that cause them to dance?" Snape asked.

"Tell me professor? Have you ever eaten fae food?"

"I can't say that I have."

Hunter smiled. "Perhaps you should try some." Hunter willed an apple to his hand.

"I wouldn't were I you," Dumbledore said. "Fae food has effects that some find not to their liking."

"Like becoming unstuck in time, or dancing until they die of exhaustion," Hunter said. "Just to name two."

"Exactly, what is it that you want, Your Highness?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

"I would like to review my cousins' curriculum. I would like an update of his grades, and I would like to see what career paths he's been offered and or chosen. Furthermore, and this is non-negotiable. Harry will not be returning to the Dursleys. Period. End. Of. Story."

"I'm sorry, but for his own good, I must insist that he do so," Dumbledore countered. "There are certain blood magics at play that being with family will strengthen to protect him."

"Harry is in no way related to those people, Professor. Your blood magic, your power of familial love does not come into play. If you wish those kinds of wards strengthened, then you should pray that I continue to keep Harry under my protection, and should choose to live with him at Muriashome. I am his blood relative, not Petunia Dursley."

"The ministry records say otherwise," Professor Snape said.

"Then perhaps you should check those records again before you embarrass yourself even further. His birthright has been activated, and his records at your Ministry of Magic have updated, or so I've been told."

"By whom?" Snape demanded.

"The head-goblin at Gringotts." Hunter watched the other man pale. Turning to Dumbledore he said, "Now about that curriculum plan."

"I'm afraid I will have to confirm your claim with the ministry before we can proceed with that," Dumbledore replied. "That will take several days."

Hunter smiled broadly and said, "I am an immortal, Professor. I can wait. However, Harry will not be returning to the Dursley's nor to this school until we've reached an agreement. Please inform the goblins at Gringotts when you wish to speak to me." He paused for a moment and stared at Professor Snape, making a quick study of the lines of causality around the man. Then calling on his daeoni heritage and the magic of his ennend's people, he pulled those lines and strings together forming a new matrix. Then, with a dark smile he reached out an set them to thrumming. "I have little respect for those who violate little boys." His voice was low, threatening, and contemptuous. "I have a very close friend to whom it happened and have vowed that whenever I come across one such as you, to make sure they never have a desire to approach a child again."

The effect was immediate. The potions master let out a low wail and sank to the ground sobbing in the deepest despair as his greatest failures, the darkest points in his life began to play out across his mind unbidden and uncontrollably. Turning to the headmaster he said, "But don't take too long. This man bears a great deal of personal guilt, regret, and sorrow, and will have to live with every moment you delay. Eventually, it will become too much for him, and either the despair will kill him, or he will take his own life."

With that, he turned and strode from the room. Passing the gargoyle, he bade him well in their language and left the building.

* * *

Harry was surprised at not only the quality of the food he'd just consumed, but with how much of it he was able to put away. While he ate, Lugh described to him how a fae household normally worked, and reminded him that Harry, as Lord of Muriashome was the final authority in this house, and that not even his cousin could override him in household matters. He did go on to point out that Lord Daire was known for being somewhat reserved, and had a reputation for having little use of the trappings of the gentry, going as far as to suggest himself, that he would be far happier as a scholar and adventurer than as the heir presumptive.

Harry tried to take it all in, but he had to admit that there was a great deal he simply didn't understand. Harry was a lot like Hermione in one respect: he needed to know why things worked the way they did, not just that they worked. The thought of his bushy-haired friend, who'd found a vanity and brushed out a lovely young lady at the Yule ball made him frown. He felt a pang of guilt at the memory of the unopened letters from her, Ron, Neville, and Luna.

"What do I need to do for now?" Harry asked.

"For now My Lord, I would suggest following Lord Daire's lead. I can tell you that he would never intentionally lead you astray. That would include getting some good fae food in you, getting yourself properly attired, and perhaps touring the manor. I'm sure that the staff would like to meet you."

"How big is the staff here?" Harry asked. "So far, all I've seen is yourself and the troll at the bridge."

Lugh nodded and said, "There are close to thirty staff members at Muriashome, including your brownie, Dobby. As a bachelor of course, several changes will have to be made to the staff, to protect your reputation and theirs as well."

"That sounds ominously like a sacking," Harry said. "I don't want anyone to lose their job."

Lugh nodded and said, "I doubt they will. Maids are always in short supply across Feyhold. I'm sure that we can arrange for them to be transferred to a familial house, and appropriate valets brought in for you."

"This is more complicated than I would have expected," Harry said.

"Yes, and no. Most of it will be handled by myself."

"Thank you," Harry said. "Just remember, I don't want anyone to lose a job."

"Understood, My Lord."

Harry pushed back from the table and asked, "What can you tell me about my cousin?"

Lugh chuckled and said, "A great deal more than is probably appropriate." He clapped his hands, and a young man about the same age as Harry, perhaps a few years older appeared at the door. He had tawny hair and large brown eyes, and he was dressed in a dove gray jacket, black slacks and hose. "Alwyn, please draw his Lord a bath, and acquire for him appropriate clothing." He paused and looked at Harry before asking, "Would you prefer at this time to dress more in the mode of the mortals, the wizards, or the fae?"

"Mortals?"

"Muggles," Lugh said.

"Let's go with that. I'm not sure how to handle clothing like my cousin."

Lugh laughed and said, "Understood, My Lord." Turning to the young man, he said, "Pop over to Kingsmen and acquire for him a variety of suits and accouterments appropriate for his status. Also inform Afon that His Lordship will require a trim."

"Right away," the young man backed from the room. After exiting the room, the young man turned around to fade into the shadows, and Harry could have sworn he saw a white rabbit's tail protruding from between the tails of his coat.

"With your Lordship's permission, we will begin with a meeting of the staff. Your bath should be drawn by the time we get upstairs. Then we will meet with the gathered staff, and perhaps tour the grounds."

"How can the bath be ready. Alwyn just left a few seconds ago?"

Lugh smiled and said, "Elfin magic!"

"Seriously?" Harry never expected the man to have a sense of humor.

"As fae we can slip into fairy. While there, time works differently. Once you master that, you can nearly be to places at the same time."

"Exactly what kind of fae is Alwyn?" Harry asked with some concern of offense.

"He's a pookah."

"Is that Unseelie or Seelie?" Harry asked.

"Depends on the individual, and when they are born. The Unseelie are generally born between the autumnal and vernal equinoxes. Seelie between the vernal and autumnal."

"But I was born in July," Harry protested.

"Yes, you were. But while mortal, you were nearly killed on Samhain and your family line is born of a powerful Unseelie Tuatha d Danann, Annis."

"So I'm destined to be evil?" Harry asked alarmed.

Lugh shook his head and said, "No. Evil and Unseelie do not go hand in hand. Lord Daire is Unseelie, but nobody I know would ever suggest that he is evil. Evil is what we make it. All things in nature are part of a cycle. There is a time for birth, for growth, for maturity and reproduction, for rule and imparting wisdom, and then for decline and death. Then it all starts over again." He indicated a painting on one of the nearby walls. It pictured a young girl of about ten. On one side she was holding the hand of a small child, barely able to walk. On the other was a very pregnant middle aged woman who with her other hand was supporting an old woman with a cane. "Here is the maid, the matron, and the crone."

"What does that have to do with evil?"

"Nothing," Lugh said. "Is the old crone evil because she's old, wrinkled, and ugly? Is the girl good because she's young and untouched by man?"

"No," Harry said.

"Then the same is true for the seelie and the unseelie. One court is for the summer, for the growth and for rebirth of life. The other is for maturity, wisdom, and the letting go to allow the cycle to begin anew. Mortals fear death because it means the end of their life not realizing it also means the beginning of a new one. I believe the Bard called it, The Undiscovered Country."

"So I'm unseelie not because I was born in the summer, which should make me seelie, but because my line is from the crone?"

Lugh nodded and said, "Exactly and so. Your mother's line, is descended through Lady Jordan through Annis."

"Black Annis? The crone?" Harry asked. "I thought she ate children and lambs."

Lugh just smiled and said, "I believe her family has convinced her to stop doing that."

Harry just shook his head as they crested the top of the stairs, and was shown to a large suite of rooms that contained a sitting room, a bedroom, a small library, and an en suite bathroom. In the latter he found a large bathtub that could easily accommodate a couple of trolls. Steam was rising from the water, but Harry noticed that it was not fogging either the window that overlooked the back garden, nor the mirrors in the room.

"Here we go, My Lord," Lugh said. "Alwyn will see to your bath, and I will gather the staff in the library."

"See to my bath?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry," Lugh said. "He will not be joining you in it, only assisting you. You may ask him questions as well. He's a bit capricious but honest. Or at least as honest as any pookah can be."

Harry looked over to the young man waiting beside the tub with what appeared to be a soft washcloth and a bar of brown soap. With some trepidation, he stripped and stepped into the steaming tub of water. Immediately, he felt his muscles relax, his joints loosen, and much of the aches and pains of the last few months fade away. Alwyn handed him the cloth and soap, and Harry noted a definite scent of cedar and something else. He looked at the valet and asked, "What kind of soap is this?"

Alwyn chuckled and said, "Believe it or not, it's a mortal soap, from a place in the United States called Kentucky. Lord Daire acquired some a year or so back and surreptitiously stocked all the household larders with it. His fathers were somewhat surprised at how good it was, and when he introduced more feminine scents, his mother was over the moon." He handed Harry a small paper label that read: _Porky's Washups: Cedar and Amber Handmade 100% Goat's Milk Soap_.

"It's not magical at all?" Harry asked.

Alwyn shook his head and said, "No, not at all."

Harry took the bar and smelled it. He found it to be quite pleasant and the lather it created as he bathed away the aches and pains was thick and creamy, and quite relaxing. As he bathed and washed his hair, he asked Alwyn, "Lugh seems impressed with my cousin, Prince Daire. What can you tell me about him?"

Alwyn shrugged and said, "Xe's the child of Lady Jordan, Duchess of Mag Maell, Prince Sebastian Daire of the Winter Throne, Prince Dorian Thuinn of the Sea Throne, and Riolprion Aubrey Gerins, ruler of the Daeoni people."

"How can he be the child of one woman and three men?" Harry asked.

"One woman, two men, and a changeling, a daeoni startyri who is both male and female simultaneously," Alwyn said giggling slightly. "As to how, it like in the wizarding world can be done. Whereas your wizards use the magic to create a child between two same-sex couples, Lady Jordan and her family used it to create a child of all four of them."

"Just how royal is he? Harry wondered as he realized that two of his cousin's parents were princes, and the third was an actual ruler.

"A lot more than he cares to be. But he is only in line for one throne. He has, or had two older siblings, partial siblings actually, from Riolprion Gerins. One has since passed away, and the other has taken up the mantle of prion. I'm unsure of the details, but Lady Jordan was not happy with the way things worked out so she forced some pretty hefty concessions from both the Council of Tyries, and the Riolprion as compensation for being taken out of the line of succession."

"How about the Sea Throne?" Harry wondered.

"Well, first the Sea King, Dorian's brother would have to abdicate, and then gods-forbid something happen to Dorian's nephew, and then to Dorian himself. Should those events occur, I think Grand Prion Hunter would have far more urgent things to worry about than becoming the sea-king. I shudder to consider the magnitude of such an event."

Harry nodded and asked, "Lugh said that my cousin prefers the role of scholar and adventurer to that of ruler."

"I believe that to be accurate. Although the thrones have been using xem for diplomatic missions of late, the grand prion has been known to don cape and cowl if you know what I mean." Harry wasn't sure, but he nodded anyway. "Xe's forged alliances and I dare say even friendships with several powerful beings including a few godlings."

"Godlings?"

"Not yet gods, but far above even immortals," Alwyn said enigmatically.

"Alwyn?" Harry asked careful of his next line of questioning.

"My Lord?"

"What is likely to be the response of the fae to my becoming the Ninth Earl of Murias?"

"Honestly, My Lord?" Harry nodded. "If your aunt has anything to say about it, very likely a party that will last for weeks. The practice of mortal fostering has fallen out of favor over the decades. I believe your mother was among the last of them. To have a lost line of faelings return to us is a cause for celebration."

"Why did they do it?"

"To strengthen the bloodlines, to ensure that we don't become too detatched from any mortal realm, and hopefully foster better understanding on both sides. However, it has not been very successful in the latter case."

"What happens to the mortal children who are raised in fairy?"

"They are loved, taught, and trained in many arts and given the choice of returning home just as the faelings are. Many choose to remain in fairy upon reaching adulthood. Others return to their families, taking up the lives the faelings left off."

"And my mother?" Harry asked.

"I know not, My Lord. A fae mind is capricious enough. A female fae mind is beyond the understanding of any man, mortal or immortal." He smiled at the last comment and Harry noticed the slightly buck teeth.

Returning to his bedchambers he found several sets of clothing lain out for him. "What are you plans for today, My Lord?" Alwyn asked.

"I'm unsure."

"He will be touring the grounds, Alwyn. Then, I believe that Grand Prion Daire has requested to clear the rest of the afternoon to begin his lessons in fae and possibly other forms of magic. There is much to learn, and much to be decided before Lord Potter determines whether or not he will return to Hogwarts."


	4. Lessons

**A short chapter for today as I've been swamped with other duties. Don't worry though, this story still has me wrapped around it's wand. (Or something else considering the conversation contained herein.)**

* * *

"What word of Severus?" Albus asked McGonagall as she entered his office.

"Madam Pomfrey has given him a dreamless sleep potion. However, she feels that in the long run it will do little good."

"I may have underestimated this Prince Daire," Albus said ruefully. "He has now removed both my bishop and my knight from the table."

"They are people, Albus," Minerva said. "They aren't pawns, nor are they game pieces. Each with their own strengths and foibles."

"Yes, yes, you're right."

"Why did you lie to Daire?" Minerva asked. "We already knew that Potter's status with ministry had changed. Furthermore, it's been three days now, and Severus is only getting worse."

"I was attempting to purchase some time to develop a strategy with which to use now that Sirius has betrayed me."

"I hardly call it betraying you, Albus. He did what he thought was right for the boy."

"But not what was right for the greater good, Minerva. We can't lose sight of that. We have to think about the greater good."

"Let it go, Albus," she told him. "You can't reform him, not after all these years."

"What are you talking about, Minerva?"

"I think you know," Albus." She crossed her arms and asked, "Now what are you going to do about Potter? You must arrange a meeting with this Prince Daire if for no other reason than to aid poor Severus. Three days of this kind of misery is enough to drive a strong man to drink, and Severus never was a very strong man."

"Has Poppy identified the nature of the curse?"

"It's not a curse, Albus. Daire rewove the very makeup of Severus' mind and body. What Severus is experiencing now is natural for him. He's what the muggles call severely clinically depressed, and his mind is fixated on failing to save Lily Potter, and on the abuse he received at the hands of James Potter and the other Marauders.

"That's cruel," Albus said. "Severus doesn't deserve this."

"Severus is being forced to face all the horrible things he's done in life, all the failures, and his mind is not allowing him to blame someone else. I think, that should he survive this, he might be a better man." Albus nodded to her. "But there's more."

"What?"

" There's a curse in there somewhere, but according to Poppy it hasn't yet been activated."

"What does this fae prince want?" Albus asked.

Minerva peered through her glasses and said, "Evidently what is best for his cousin."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"What has Daire asked for?"

"For Harry not to return to the Dursley's. And he's pretty much accomplished that. And to go over Harry's curriculum plan."

"What's unreasonable about that?" Minerva asked.

"We both know that for us to win this war, Harry is going to have to die. What was the use of creating a curriculum plan for a student we know won't survive the war no matter what?"

Minerva frowned at Albus. It was clear that she did not approve of his attitude. But for the wizarding world to survive, Harry Potter _had_ to die, and he _had_ to die at the correct time so that the soul-shard that dwelt within his scar would die too. Only then could Voldemort finally be defeated, and the Greater Good restored. "Then come up with something that makes sense and present it to him. It doesn't matter if it's real or not. Daire wont' know that as long it is logical." She shook her head and in a tone of disapproval that only a good Scots woman could achieve she added, "However, I do not like this fatalistic attitude that writes Harry off. I actually have some faith in him. He's proven to be far more resourceful than either you or Tom Riddle have given him credit. Over the last four years, he's sent both of you scrambling to reassess your battle plans. I think that says a lot about him." She turned on her heel and left the room.

Albus sat at his desk and shook his head. Things were quickly spiraling out of control, and Albus was unsure how to prevent it. He looked over at Fawkes and frowned. "What to do, Fawkes?"

The bird raised its head from under a wing and sang to him a long haunting dirge.

 **Harry Potter and the Fae Prince. Harry Potter and the Fae Prince.**

It had been a very long and tiring three days for Harry. But he'd learned nearly as much in those three days as he had in the last four years at Hogwarts. Harry felt himself becoming leaner, stronger, more agile, and his mind and senses sharper. Each lesson with his cousin seemed to open up new vistas of knowledge, new areas of exploration. He could understand why Daire preferred to think of himself as a scholar and an adventurer. With these kinds of opportunities to learn, to grow, and to discover new things, he considered that to be quite an understandable attitude.

They had begun with several tests of Harry's limits, none of which his cousin would discuss with him. As he pushed and prodded against the edges of Harry's magic, he would make notes in a muggle-style spiral notebook with a muggle pen and either nod, or shake his head. Once or twice, he would study what he'd written and become pensive as he considered his options.

The first day, Daire had introduced Harry to the library, and to the fairy memory stones there. He'd taught him how to first join their minds for direct mind to mind teaching and then showed him how to protect himself from intrusion. Later he showed him how to access the memory stones. Once those lessons had been deeply ingrained in his thoughts, he began to teach Harry the basics of fae magic which was entirely wandless.

"Why don't fae use wands?" Harry asked on the third day.

Daire had only smiled, blushed lightly and replied, "A better question would be, why do mortal mages use wands."

"And why?"

"As a focus, I suppose. Staves are something different. They are actually like a scroll, something onto which a spell can be inscribed, charged, and activated when needed. But wands were originally only used by witches, not wizards."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"What does a wizard have that a witch doesn't?"

Harry shrugged and thought about it, "A beard?"

Daire chuckled and said, "I'm thinking of something a little lower on the anatomy."

"Oh," Harry said in surprise.

"Then why do wizards use wands?"

"Compensation?" Then he smiled and added, "Like I said, probably as a focus for the their magical energy. You yourself have described accidental magic to me where young wizards and witches don't use a wand, and achieve some remarkable feats of magic."

"Can I use normal magic, I mean non-fae magic without a wand?" Harry asked.

"I suppose so. There are a lot of habits you'd have to break, and you would have to delve deeper into magical theory than just about anybody has ever had much of a cause to do so," Daire said. "But for now I want to teach you our magic, fae magic. It doesn't need a wand."

"What does it do?"

"Glamour and charms are very important in fae magic. But the main difference is that with mortal wizards they are tapping into their life force, their own magic to cast spells. It's why it can be so tiring, and why practice is important. A good wizard learns to use just enough of his magic to get the job done and not tap into his magical core." Daire paused and said, "Down that path leads to aging and death."

"And fae magic?"

"Fae magic draws its power from two sources. The first is the universe around us. The ambient energy to be found in places where the stages of life are most prominent, from nature, and from the plants and animals therein. The second, and most important is learning to draw energy from fairy. That's a powerful source, and even more than from the world around us, it has to be channeled through the fae's body."

"Why can't mortals learn to do that?"

"Remember when I taught you about the othersight?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Remember those lines of power you saw around this manor?" Harry nodded again. "Well, to use that power, you have to draw it into yourself, shape it, and then will what you want to happen. The magic interacts with the mage's own magical core. Since we are part of fairy, the magic recognizes us, and passes through us. But when a mortal mage does it, his magic is not from fairy, and to will and shape the magical energy, he has to use some of his own magical core. Every time he does so, a little of that core is expelled with the magic, draining him, and aging him. Mortals can use fae magic, but they pay a price for it. Most mortals who use it don't live beyond their late twenties and early thirties."

"I can see why they would be reluctant to use it," Harry said.

Daire smiled. "Now come over here, I want to go over this with you."

"What?"

"Think of it as a lesson plan. I told you things were going to snowball quickly. According to my sources, there's about to be a change at the Ministry of Magic, and this Voldedore is stepping up his attacks. I had to deal with an incursion in Pottermore last night. It could have been nasty."

"If this war doesn't involve the fae, why are you helping?"

Daire leaned back and frowned slightly. He pointed to a chair and said, "Sit down." Harry did as he was bade as Dare began.

"When I was just a few years older than you, my mother and fathers took me across the dimensions on a mission to stop an evil race from being released onto a world where they would most likely conquer it."

"Dimensions, realities?" Harry asked.

"One of the aspects of fairy is that it will allow you to cross from one reality to another, from one Earth to one with an entirely different history, different rules. On this particular mission, in a reality far away from here in both time and space, I met a man who had been commissioned by the goddess Freyja to stand between humanity and those that would the free enchain. You would not believe the raw power, the sense of purpose that poured off this man. When the mission was over, I decided that like him, I would devote my life to helping people like what you call muggles. I would stand between them and those that hunt them in the night. Hence in some places I'm known as Night-Hunter. I hunt the things that hunt the night." (Feline Factor: The Sword of Sariel by Cobalt-Blue)

The look in his cousin's eyes, the tone of his voice when he spoke of this mysterious hero, told Harry all he needed to know. A first love could be powerful, even when it was unrequited. "I think I understand."

"Of all the people in the world, I think you probably do more than most." Hunter smiled and said, "Now take a look at this."

"What is it?"

"A strategic plan for what we're going to cover. First I want to get the basics of several arts laid down for you. That's going to require a lot of direct mind to mind teaching. Afterward, I've identified several gifts that you have that we may want to cultivate. Normally, this kind of study would take decades, but you don't have decades. Dumblemort is starting to move about in the world."

Harry looked at Hunter and asked, "Do you do that on purpose?"

"What?"

"Purposefully merge Voldemort and Dumbledore into one name?"

Hunter smiled and said, "Why would I do that?"

"Contempt?"

"Perhaps. I will confess to a certain level of contempt for both of them. But there's another reason."

"So it's on purpose?"

Hunter nodded and said, "Yes. They are two halves of the same coin. There is little difference between their goals, just their means. And sometimes, not even that. They're engaged in what Daeoni Wolf Clan refers to as a piss battle."

"Piss battle?"

"Who's the biggest wolf. Who can piss higher on the tree. Both are trying to be the greatest wizards of their time. They've already hurt a lot of people and are going to continue to do so trying to prove which one is the most powerful, the cleverest."

"But why?"

"I'm not sure. Somewhere along the way, they have each been hurt deeply. They've made mistakes, and can't face up to them, and Britain is going to pay for their sins."

"Is that why you're training me this way?"

Hunter nodded. "Among other reasons. You should have started your lessons in the crib." He smiled showing his very sharp vampire like fangs and said, "You've been slacking cousin."

Harry couldn't help himself. He threw the pen at Hunter who quickly dodged it and tackled him from his chair. For long moments the two wrestled across the thick Bavarian carpet, tickling each other. His cousin was remarkably, even frighteningly strong, but was also very careful of that strength. It was the most bonding, most brotherly moment of Harry's life. For a brief moment, he was actually happy as the world was washed away by the tides of brotherhood and kin. Then, when Harry had gotten the upper end of the wrestling match, Hunter dashed his head in and kissed Harry on the nose and quickly slipped out of the hold and took his chair. Harry sat there for long seconds considering what Hunter had just done.

"That's the second time, no the third time, you've kissed me, Hunter."

"Is it a problem?" Hunter asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm just confused."

Hunter laughed and for a moment it reminded Harry of wind chimes. "It wasn't that kind of kiss, Harry. First off, you're my cousin, and whereas that might be acceptable among the muggle gentry, it's not generally so among our people."

"And secondly?" Harry asked.

Hunter smiled and said, "I know you know that I'm pan-gendered. Sometimes I don't always react the same way someone who is only male would. If the kisses bother you, I won't do that again."

"They don't bother me," Harry quickly said. "It's just not something that has happened to me much. The Dursleys weren't exactly physically affectionate, and definitely not to me. I don't get a lot of hugs or kisses."

"Oh boy," Hunter said. "When Mother is finally up to traveling here to meet you, I'm afraid you're going to be in for a lot of hugs and kisses, and gifts, and cheek pinches, and all other kinds of affection." He chuckled and said, "And my fathers will take me to task for not teaching you enough."

"You've already taught me more in a day than I've learned in a year at Hogwarts."

"It's not enough. If we're going to defeat Glenda the Good and the Wicked Witch of the West, you're going to have to have more."

Harry smiled and said, "You know Dudley says that movie is the ultimate chick flick?"

"Really?" Hunter asked. "How so?"

"Two women fighting over a pair of shoes," Harry told him with a grin.

Hunter laughed and said, "Sometimes even a blind hog finds an acorn."

"Blind hog is a good enough description of Dudley. Although he was starting to come around some I think after I saved him from the dementors."

Hunter nodded and said, "Okay, you've got the basics of fae magic down. Remember, charms and glamour can only go so far. Then you have to go into battle magic and that's where we are going to go next. But first, I want to discuss some of the things I found while studying your magic. There are abilities and skills that if you want to start developing you need to start working on them now."

"Such as?" Harry asked.

"Remember when I said that you may have the ability to shapeshift?"

Harry nodded, his heart beginning to race at the idea.

"Well, you definitely have that, but it's not in the direction I was expecting."

Harry gave him a questioning look, "Go ahead."

"Your magic suggests that you are a polymorph."

"What's that?"

"A moon-shifter, be they arcana or moon tyri have one form into which they can shift. Some can take a hybrid form between the two, and some can even add those aspects in their human form."

"Like your ears and tail?"

"Sort of. My ears and tail, and my claws are from my moon-tyri aspects—cat clan to be specific—but most are limited only to their moon form."

"Most?"

"Myself, because of my Startyri gifts, and you, probably because your father was a mortal animagus, suggests that you can take the form of any animal," Hunter said. "Now me, because of my moon-tyri heritage, I feel the pull of the moon. You won't."

"So I'm not like a werewolf?" Harry asked.

"No. Not like that. You can eventually learn to become a wolf, or even a hybrid wolf man form, but the moon won't force you to change. You could do the same with any form within certain limitations."

"What limitations?" Harry asked.

"Mostly mass. You could become a canary if you wanted, but you'd be a hundred forty pound canary." Hunter grinned and added, "And with a Tommy gun quite dangerous."

"What an image!" Harry chuckled. "So how do we develop this?"

"First there's one more aspect of you magic I want to address. And it's a very important, and dangerous one."

Harry asked worriedly, "What?"

Hunter took a deep breath and said, "There's a branch of magic; it's called Daeoni Matrix Magic. It taps directly into the fabric of reality and causality. It makes changes on a fundamental level that few other magics can match. A very few fae, my mother is one such, and the occasional Thenali, or in one case a primal vessel can learn it. You have the potential for it, Harry." He paused and said, "It would give you a major advantage over both Dumbledore and Voldemort, but it's very dangerous."

"How so?"  
"Because it doesn't just change the person or the object, it changes the universe to force it to accept your will. It literally rewrites reality to accept those changes. It's the main reason that daeoni can go to worlds without magic, and use magic there. We carry with us our own magical fields."

"And I do too?"

Hunter shook his head. "No. You have the potential to rearrange the chords of reality, but only in realities where the ambient magic level is high enough to allow it. What it means though is that you could accidentally use it to rip through reality and walk to any alternate dimension you choose. But if you were to get lost and end up in a dimension with no, or low magic levels, you could be stranded there."

Harry nodded and said, "I think I understand."

"I hope so, Harry. I would hate to have to spend a few centuries searching various realities to find you just because you took a wrong turn in Albuquerque."

"How about we put that one on hold for a while. I've got enough to learn with fae magic, and with being a polymorph." He stopped and asked, "Can I look like other people with being a polymorph?"

Hunter shook his head and said, "No. But you can use your fae magic to glamour yourself to look like other people. In some ways that's more effective because it causes the person seeing you to want to believe you're the person you are glamoured as."

"Okay," Harry said. "Where do we begin?"

And then the lessons began anew.


	5. Curses and Kings

**AN/ Please note that I'm trying to be very careful with not only Rowling's characters but those from Cobalt-Blue's Earth Reforged series as well. I AM taking liberties with both canons to make them fit. If you are unfamiliar with the latter series: Hunter Dare IS pan-gendered. Xe is not gender-fluid, but is physically and psychologically both genders at the same time as is natural for xyr race. However, appearing as such would probably cause more problems with the wizarding world than xyr cat's ears and tails so xe passes as a male. I have no intention at this time of there being any slash involved in this story as I've decided on at least one pairing so far and it will not be slash. If there are any same sex parings, they will be handled in a way that I feel such pairings should be. ("Oh, they're gay. That's nice. Please pass the marmalade. Marge ate a bad kipper. "No preaching, no screaming about LGBT rights. It will a part of the character, not what defines the character. I'm sorry if you got four chapters in and found out one of the characters is pangendered. (Read the source material. They're reasonably priced on Amazon.) However, the fact that you got four chapters into the story before you realized it should tell you something about how I'm treating the subject.**

It was two days later when Hunter received word through Gringotts that Dumbledore was ready to negotiate. In the interim there had been several attacks on not only in the wizarding world, but among the mortals as well. Hunter was very nearly forced to break out the cape and cowl, to be able to bridge the gap between the mortals and the wizards. In the end, the cuffs he'd been granted by his grandfather at the Summer Ball had sufficed.

Harry had been working very hard at learning both fae magic an exploring the edges of his polymorph abilities. Here, Hunter was forced to do a lot of mind-to-mind teaching and that had left him open to his cousin doing his own explorations into Hunter's mind. That meant some uncomfortable questions when pressed about Hunter's ex. How do you explain that your ex is the grandchild of the titan Hyperion, and that it ended badly?

Hunter had approached several people at the ministry with questions about the Potter and Black family histories. He was somewhat surprised when along with the missive from Gringotts, he and Harry received a visit from none other that Elder-Warlock Scaravanger Greengrass, the grandfather of one of Harry's classmates, Daphne.

"What does _he_ want?" Harry demanded.

"I asked the ministry for some information on your father's family."

"My father's? Why?"

Hunter smiled and said, "Because you told me that you know next to nothing about the wizarding world. You yourself admitted to me that you felt that you handled your first meeting with this Draco person poorly and you thought that was because you thought even the mortal-born students had been better briefed on the world you were entering. This is my rectifying that."

"But he's a dark wizard!" Harry protested.

"What makes you think that?"

"Because Daphne is in Slytherin!" Harry said, then seeming to realize how silly that sounded, his eyes grew wide, and he began to mouth a silent "oh".

Hunter smiled and said, "You're learning. I'm Unseelie, you're unseelie. Does that mean we're evil?"

Harry shook his head and said, "No."

"As my friend, Professor Greenbough would say, 'We are our deeds'. You yourself told me that the sorting hat wanted to put you in Slytherin. Mayhaps you let your new friends' opinion of Slytherins shape your own. The man has offered to help."

"What if he lies?"

Hunter chuckled and said, "Do you think I can be fooled so easily by a mere mortal, no matter how powerful the wizard?"

Harry shook his head and said, "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Let's hear them out."

Harry just nodded and waited. Finally, Hunter looked to him and said, "It's your house."

"Oh," Harry replied. Then turning to Lugh who stood with a twinkle of amusement playing across his face, he said, "Please show Elder-Warlock Greengrass in."

"As you wish," Lugh said bowing. Hunter caught a surreptitious nod of approval as the man backed from the room.

Hunter straitened Harry's jacket and said, "Remember, you are Lord Potter, the Ninth Earl of Murias. You are not a child to be cowed. And Elder-Warlock Greengrass is here to do you a favor."

"Stop fussing, Cousin," Harry said.

Hunter just smiled and stepped away, putting his hands behind his back and waited for the guest to be shown into the study. His mind drifted back to his first few months of living at Winterglen when his mother reopened it and how much difficulty he had adjusting to making his wishes known.

The man Lugh escorted into the room may have appeared to be in his late sixties or so, but Hunter immediately recognized both the effects of non-mortal blood, possibly veela, as well as some very carefully constructed life-extending spells. Mortals had a form of immortality all their own if they were willing to put in the effort. He bowed slightly to Harry and then Hunter, and directed the young woman beside him to do so as well. She was a very attractive blonde with bright blue eyes and the long thin aristocratic nose that suggested somewhere in their line was possibly mixed in mortal's from the Saxa-Coburg and Gotha line.

"Thank you for receiving us Your Highness," he looked to Harry and added, "And Lord Potter."

"Thank you for coming, Elder-Warlock," Harry said much to Hunter's both surprise and pleasure. "My cousin has asked you here to possibly assist us in filling in the gaps that have shockingly been left in my education."

 _That_ got a reaction from the man. "It would be my pleasure, Lord Potter." Then turning to his granddaughter, he added, " _Our_ pleasure."

Then surprising Hunter even further, he said, "Your journey here must have been fatiguing. Might I offer you some refreshments?" Then pausing he added, "Mortal refreshments." And there it was. An acceptance of what he'd become, a reminder to Greengrass, and a genuine house command to Lugh all rolled in one. His cousin was a very quick study.

"Thank you Lord Potter," Greengrass replied.

"Please sit down, and call me Harry." Harry indicated an area in the study where there were several comfortable chairs surrounding a low table.

"You've changed, Harry," the young lady said with some surprise.

"Daphne," the older man warned.

Harry laughed and said, "It's alright. This is a change I actually had a choice in, Daphne." He held out his hands with the long and delicate fingers, and then brushed back his hair from his pointed ears.

Daphne smiled and said, "I like it."

"Thanks."

"How can we help, Harry?" the elder Greengrass asked.

Hunter watched as the others waited for him to sit and then directed the others to do so as well. Harry was learning quickly about the rules of the gentry, much more quickly than Hunter did. He briefly wondered if that was a side effect of simply being British.

"First, let me say thank you for coming. My cousin, Lord Daire has been helping me become more acquainted with what it means to be a fae, but I'm discovering that there's a lot about the wizarding world I don't know. I can find no one who can tell me about my mother or my father. Only Sirius Black and Professor Lupin were starting to give me some information, and then there was that whole mess at the Ministry, and we all know what happened there." There was tightly controlled emotion quite evident in that statement. Hunter knew that Greengrass had noted it as well.

"An unfortunate series of events," the man said relaxing somewhat. "It seems to me that you have become trapped between two opposing forces in the wizarding world, told one side of a story, and then ordered to choose sides."

Harry made to protest, but Hunter reached out and touched his elbow, and stopped. "Please go ahead."

Greengrass noted the contact and nodded to Hunter. "Not every wizard who comes out of Slytherin turns out to be a dark wizard, Harry." The man's voice was gentle. "And not every wizard in the Wizengamot is allied with Professor Dumbledore or the Death Eaters. But it seems to me that you've been done an injustice by those whose job it was to raise you in not imparting to you even the basics of life in the wizarding world. I've heard it said that Dumbledore didn't want you to grow up a celebrity, and there's something to be said for that. I've met more than one wizard who grew up in the press, and it rarely turned out well. But at the same time, I'm not sure the extreme measures he put in place were appropriate either." This man was a diplomat, and a master manipulator himself. But Hunter got the impression that although there might be ulterior motives in helping them, he was not likely to lie to them.

"What can you tell me about my family?" Harry asked.

The old man smiled and said, "Although the Potter line is not one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, it's a long and honorable line. And to be honest, the only reason that it's not considered one of the Sacred Twenty-eight is because of your great grandfather, a man I knew well, and quite liked, who actively defended muggles."

"Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Harry asked.

"The twenty-eight purest pure-blood families," Greengrass said. "Blood status, whether for good or ill, is considered important to the wizarding world." He paused for a moment, looked at Hunter and said, "You know, the fact that your mother was not actually muggle-born, changes your own blood status. Being part fae, means that you are considered pure-blood." He chuckled and said, "Your new title is actually one of the few that carries over both in the wizarding world as well as the muggle."

"I didn't know that," Harry said.

"You have a foot in three worlds, Harry. Welcome to mine."

Greengrass looked at Hunter in surprise and said, "I had not thought of that. Three worlds indeed."

"You said you knew my great grandfather?"

"Henry Potter was an Elder-Warlock member of the Wizengamot, a seat you yourself will inherit." He smiled slightly and said, "And if I'm correct about the contents of your godfather's will, you will also inherit the Black seat. That's going to throw a spanner into Lucius Malfoy's plans for certain. Probably not as much as his current residence though."

"Elder-Warlock," Harry said his eyes quite earnest. "I'm at a complete loss. I have no idea how to navigate the wizarding world, and there are people who seem to be determined to keep me from getting any exposure."

"I'm starting to understand that more and more, Harry." He looked at Hunter and asked, "Am I to understand that the fae are neutral in the conflict between Dumbledore and the Dark Lord?"

Hunter nodded and said, "It's a mortal matter. The only reason we are involved whatsoever is because of Harry here. I've spoken to Mother, and she tells me that she has asked her distant cousin King Jareth of the goblins to investigate why Gringotts did not identify him has fae blood the moment he stepped foot into their bank."

"Oh dear," Greengrass said. "That could upset the wizarding world even more. Sometimes I think the fact that the goblins control our finances and stay out of politics is the only thing that keeps our society from flying apart."

Hunter nodded and said, "I've sent a request to him to be discrete." He smiled and added, "And not to trade for any children."

"Is he likely to listen?"

Hunter shrugged and said, "I never know. I've served all three thrones of Feyhold honorably, but the goblin king is a force unto himself. I think he may actually consider what I asked, but I understand he can be capricious."

Greengrass obviously concerned with this news, simply nodded. Looking to Harry, he said, "You've made some mistakes in the wizarding world, that's for sure, but they are not entirely your fault. Lucius Malfoy hasn't helped the situation with his own actions. I will see what I can do to intercede on your behalf." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small package that grew into a large stack of books as he lay it on the table. "In the meantime, I've brought you several books on the history of the Potter and Pervevell families." He smiled and added, "And a copy of _Miss Purdy's Manual for Young Witches and Wizards of Good Breeding and Manners._ " He laughed. "Maybe it will do you more good than my grandchildren."

"Thank you, Sir." Hunter could hear the emotion in Harry's words.

"We will be speaking with Headmaster Dumbledore later this afternoon about Harry's curriculum plan," Hunter interjected.

"That is a completely different matter. Hogwarts has been in need of a major curriculum overhaul for decades. But as it serves the needs of the pure-blood students well enough, the Ministry is loathe to change much. I believe Delores Umbridge felt the same way, but to be honest, she was as incompetent as the rest. I would suspect that at the mention of the words curriculum and plan in the same sentence, would send half of the professors there looking for a dictionary." He shook his head and said, "There is more to learning than rote memory and writing in with quills and parchment."

That was a sentiment that surprised Hunter.

"Then perhaps I should simply withdraw Harry from Hogwarts and enroll him in my brother-in-law's alma mater on Feyhold? I know that there, he will receive an excellent education in both fae magic as well as daeoni matrix magic." _That_ got past the old man's calm veneer.

Eyes wide, he said, "Withdrawing Lord Potter from Hogwarts would send both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord scrambling. I'm not sure it would help any plans you might have of a reconciliation between the wizards of Britain and Feyhold, however."

Hunter nodded and said, "Although the Thrones have asked me to make inquiries into a reconciliation, my first mission is and always will be Harry. His best interests come before those of the _Greater Good_ , so to speak." He smiled.

"I understand," Greengrass returned the smile. "I think I agree with you. And that's a powerful bargaining chip. Perhaps I may be of assistance in that matter then."

"Really?" Hunter asked.

"What time is your appointment at Hogwarts?"

"Four o'clock," Hunter said.

Greengrass grinned wickedly. "If you will excuse us, I will return to the ministry. Dropping a couple of hints into the ears of certain members of the Wizengamot, I might be able to help Dumbledore come to his senses."

"Very well," Hunter replied rising.

"Thank you for coming," Harry said with genuine gratitude. "And for the books."

"You're quite welcome Lord Potter," Greengrass said. Then turning to his granddaughter who had been silent for the conversation, her eyes growing ever wide. "Come Daphne. We have several places to visit before returning home."

After they had withdrawn, Harry turned to Hunter and said, "That went well."

"You have no idea, Cousin."

"What was that about your mission?"

"The wizards have been wanting the fae to return to Britain since the War of 1812. They became nearly panicked over it during the Great War. And my parents and the Sea King asked me to put out some feelers about it, but my first mission has always been your welfare, Cousin."

"What now?" Harry asked.

"We wait and give Elder-Warlock Greengrass time to drop the right information into the right ears. Then we go to Hogwarts and have a talk with your headmaster."

 **Harry Potter and the Fae Prince. Harry Potter and the Fae Prince.**

Albus was busy receiving visitors from the Ministry of Magic as well as the Wizengamot, so Minerva agreed to conduct Lords Daire and Potter to the hospital wing to see to Severus. She could no longer deny the reality of Harry being made the Earl of Murias. It had been a long time since the school had seen an active House Lord as a student, and it was going to take some getting used to on her part.

She watched young Lord Daire hover over the gaunt form of Severus touching unseen points in the air, and seeming to pull them into some kind of invisible tapestry. "Can you see what I'm doing Harry?" he asked quietly.

Potter nodded and said, "You are pulling the strings of his causality away from his soul. I can't tell what they are, but I can see the strings."

"Can you see the matrix?"

Harry nodded and said, "Yes. But I don't understand it."

"You don't have to understand it right now. But I want to make sure you can see what I'm doing."

"Exactly what _are_ your doing?"Minerva asked.

"I'm reweaving his connection to the universe. I'm not quite taking away his sense of guilt, but I'm reducing it to its previous levels."

"That was a very cruel thing to do, Lord Daire," Minerva said.

"And emotional and physical abuse of a child, no, not a child, but children is not? He got off lightly. Had it been any of my fathers they would have simply killed him. My mother would have sent him to the deepest darkest universe without magic she could find. My ennend would have given him the mind of a five year old. I simply want him to reconsider his actions."

"And the curse that has yet to activate?" Poppy asked the cat-lord.

The dark-haired young man turned to Poppy and said, "Noticed that, did you?" He smiled and said, "Whether or not the curse activates is entirely up to him. You are more than welcome to tell him about it. It does have an escape clause."

"Which makes it a bloodline curse," Poppy said.

"Somehow I get the feeling that part isn't important."

"What is the curse?" Minerva demanded, her patience growing thin.

Daire touched Severus on the forehead and said, "Sleep. Dream of happier things if you know them, otherwise dream not." Then turning to Minerva he said, "Its quite simple. As long as he acts civilly and fairly toward children, then the curse will never activate. However, the first time he treats one unfairly, raises a hand to strike one, or punish one unjustly, then the curse will activate and all the major organs in his body will begin to deteriorate. The only way to stop the deterioration is to make the situation right."

"You've crippled him," Minerva said.

"Then, he has no business being around children."

"He _needs_ to be here." Minerva gestured toward the door. "Let's talk in the hall."

When the smaller man had followed her, and she was sure that Poppy was out of earshot she said. "He has a mission here."

"Then he needs to control himself," Lord Daire told her. "It's entirely up to him. My cousin told me about the Order of the Phoenix and its mission to stop Voldemort." Minerva suppressed a shudder at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "What you don't understand is that piece of Tom Riddle's soul that resided in Harry's scar has been removed. He will no longer be able to "peek in" on Harry's thoughts, or send him visions like the one that resulted in Sirius Black leaving this world."

 _There is at least that._ _Now, Albus' plans will have to be changed to not necessarily include Harry dying to destroy the Dark Lord._ "That's good news," Minerva said looking back into the medical wing where Harry stood staring out the window toward the Black Lake. "The Dark Lord is not going to give up on him though. There's the prophecy."

"Exactly, what does this prophecy say?" Hunter asked her.

Minerva again looked at Harry and said, "I'm not supposed to know this. But I'm not going to throw the boy to the wolves blindly. Hell, I won't throw him to the wolves period. This thing has gotten too far out of hand. But the prophecy that Harry retrieved from the Department of Mysteries was this." She took a deep breath and repeated it, word for word. " _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._ "

Lord Daire nodded his head and said, "And Harry's fae magic would qualify as a power this dark lord knows not."

"Professor Dumbledore thinks it's a mother's love."

Daire smiled and said, "I'll put my trust in Harry's magic before that. Voldemort had no idea what power he was unleashing when he killed a fae noble, even one who had rejected her birthright. This explains a lot though. It has come full bloom in Harry now, both his power and hers. So it could be a mother's love, if you count a mother's love as giving her power to him."

"What do you suggest we do?"

Daire sighed and said, "Run both Voldemort and Dumbledore through with a blade of good fae steel would be my first inclination, especially since both seem bent on seeing my cousin killed." Minerva began to protest, but he held up a hand and said, "But that's an emotional reaction, not a logical nor necessarily even a desirable one."

"Well at least there is that. Still to my question?"

Daire sighed and said, "The way I see it, I have two choices. The first is to develop a _real_ curriculum plan for him here at Hogwarts. It's where he's comfortable, and he actually has a few friends as well. But I get the feeling that such a plan is going to require a major overhaul of Hogwarts' teaching philosophy. You seem to be stuck in a very outmoded teaching model."

"And second?"

"Take Harry to Feyhold, enroll him in a school on Skyhome and withdraw my request for leniency to King Jareth when he audits Gringotts. Watch the whole country, maybe the whole continental wizarding community collapse." He sighed and said, "You have to understand, my mother is starting to get restless and the more reports she receives on what has happened to her nephew, the more vexed she becomes. That is not a good thing."

"Then let's hope we can make your first option the more palatable to all involved," Minerva told him.

Daire stopped and looked at her. "You know, Professor. I think you actually believe that. That's a good sign."

"I'm still concerned about this curse," Minerva said.

"It stays," Daire said with a tone of finality. "The man himself has the opportunity to make sure it never activates."

"At what price?"

"Being a decent man," Daire told her. It was an argument she could not counter.

Turning back toward the hospital wings, she asked, "How is Harry doing? He seems different. I don't mean just the physical changes. I mean he seems more confident, more comfortable in his own skin."

"He's recovering. A week of good fae food in him has made a difference. He's reacting well to the environment at Muriashome, and the staff there are developing a genuine affection for their new lord. He's adapting to his lessons quickly, and his lessons are proceeding apace."

"Can you really teach him to master fae magic before the end of the summer?" she asked.

"No. Fae magic requires decades if not centuries to master. But he will have the basics down. He will have a decent repertoire of spells and charms, and he will know how to moderate the rate he draws on the magic of fairy. That way he won't accidentally blast holes in the walls of the castle under the influence of strong emotions."

Minerva smiled and said, "That's appreciated." She paused a moment and then asked, "The representative from the Ministry of Magic said something about Harry being able to perform Daeoni Matrix Magic? Is that what you were demonstrating to him?"

"He has the potential. But we're not going to begin lessons on that just yet. He has enough on his plate as it is. We start combat training next week."

"Combat training? You mean dueling?"

Daire shook his head "Not with wands, if that's what you mean. I will leave that to you here at Hogwarts. I mean sword play, pistols, hand to hand, spellcraft and fighting while polymorphed."

Minerva shook her head, "Wizards don't use pistols, or other muggle weapons."

"Then explain the Sword of Gryffindor."

"I meant modern muggle weapons."

"That's why you lose to Voldemort," Daire said.

"It's not in our nature."

"It will be in Harry's. You Brits seem to fear the idea of an armed populace. It makes you vulnerable to people like Voldemort and Grindewald. My parents taught me the arts of war, peace, and diplomacy from an early age. Harry hasn't had that advantage, but I and my mother intend to correct that situation."

Minerva nodded. "It's not the usual way we do things."

"That is up to you of course. But my cousin will know how to defend himself. If I have my way, when I'm finished, when he faces off with this Voldemort, he's going to take him apart piece by piece and each cut, each drop of blood he draws will be dedicated to the memory of his parents and all those who died at the hands of this bloody monster." He smiled and added, "As a good Scotswoman, you should be able to appreciate that."

Minerva was taken aback by the ferocity in the man's voice. This was something she should have suspected though. Tales of the fae folk were spread wide across the Highlands, and the lengths they would go to for revenge was legendary. "I think I understand."

"Perhaps," Daire said.

Before she could reply, Professor Flitwick came into the hall and said, "Your Highness, Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster's visitors have departed. He sent me to ask you to join him."

"Thank you Filius," she told the Charm's professor. Turning to Harry, she said, "Potter, the headmaster wants us in his office."

"Coming Professor," Potter said before stepping back from the window. He glanced at the sleeping form of Professor Snape and shook his head.


	6. Ministers and Meetings

**AN/ I'm beginning to realize that this is not going to be a short story, and will probably take us through the whole of the Year 6. That means that from this point on out, we've stepped solidly into the realm of Alternate Universes, which is highly appropriate considering Hunter Daire is a world-walker. I hope you enjoy this. Like I said, it's nearly writing itself. I have several twists and turns planned, and be aware: There maybe some changes in how you perceive certain characters in both crossover series.**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was completely dumbfounded. This was a turn of events he never expected. Sirius' betrayal had destroyed his entire strategy. Now, after sending word to Daire that he would meet with him, he was facing off with a senior representative from the Wizengamot, an undersecretary from the Ministry of Magic, and even more surprisingly, a representative from Her Majesty's government.

"Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Head Warlock of the Wizengamot, this is Undersecretary Royce Tell from the Ministry of Magic, and Minister of Parliament, Harper Grant from Her Majesty's government. Gentlemen, this is Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Head Warlock for the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Scaravanger Greengrass made the necessary introductions.

"What can the Headmaster of Hogwarts do for three such distinguished gentlemen?" Albus asked neutrally.

"We've been discussing the events of this past year, Albus. While we are not quite ready to officially admit the return of the Dark Lord, we recognize this to be the fact. As such, we feel that Hogwarts has been neglected by the Ministry and by the Wizengamot." He smiled, something that sent shivers down Albus' spine. Greengrass never did anything that wasn't for his own benefit, and he had been rabidly neutral in the last two Wizarding Wars.

"And Her Majesty's Minister?" Albus asked.

The thin, young and rather attractive man in his mid thirties with a thick head of white-blond hair said, "I'm here to make Her Majesty's government's wishes known on other matters."

"And those would be?"

"Prime Minister has sent me here to request that you cooperate in any and all ways possible with the representative from Feyhold. The government of Great Britain and Northern Ireland sincerely regrets to actions of previous governments and wish to normalize relations with that island nation as best we can."

"Since when did he muggle government dictate terms to the Wizengamot?" Albus asked brusquely.

"We are not here to dictate anything, Headmaster," the man said. "We are here to request your aid in a matter that would benefit both sides of our government. The fae, daeoni, and merfolk have an advantage in that their magical as well as," he paused seeming to taste the word before using it, "muggle governments are one and the same," the man told Albus. "I have been named liaison to the wizarding community by MI-6."

"MI-6?"

"Military Intelligence," Undersecretary Tell said.

"An oxymoron if I ever heard one," Albus dismissed the organization.

"I wouldn't always disagree with you, Headmaster," Harper interjected. "However, we take the security of Great Britain very seriously. When I am told that there is a wizard who wants to conquer Britain and rule both the wizards and we..., muggles..., I take pay attention."

"If I am able to stop Voldemort, it won't matter," Albus told him. "You will continue to go about your lives unmolested."

"And if you lose?" Harper asked seriously.

Albus shook his head and said, "We won't lose. That is a thought too terrible to contemplate." Then turning to Tell he asked, "And exactly what do you have in mind to help Hogwarts?"

"New wards around the school," Tell said. "I don't think Fudge will be long as Minister. New funding, more teachers, better defenses. More faculty."

"We've seen the kind of faculty the Ministry prefers," Albus told him. "We don't need any more Delores Umbridges."

"Delores was a pompous self-important toad," Tell said. "She had no business anywhere near children, and she knew nothing about teaching. She was as much an example of the problems she tried to highlight, as she was an advocate for change. However, her and others', including those of Madame Olympe Maxime and Igor Karkov, observation that Hogwarts' teaching methods are woefully outdated is not something that was incorrect. Hogwarts students' international test scores are nearly dead last."

"I will admit that we've had some difficulties with personnel and faculty, but the Ministry's interference in these matters has only acerbated the problems."

"Understood," Greengrass said. "But that was because, as you and I both know, the Ministry was playing politics. What we are proposing is something less political and more, shall we say pedagogical."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

"Importing some extra faculty from outside of Britain to fill certain holes in your faculty. That will avoid any political ties with the Ministry. I know that you are extremely loyal to your faculty, and that is as it should be, but there is a definite curse on the DADA position, and although your potions teacher is a brilliant potions master, even you have to admit that he's far from adequate as an actual instructor."

"Perhaps this is an area where Her Majesty's government could help," Grant suggested.

"Exactly how could muggles help teach wizard children?" Albus was very proud at how he kept the contempt from his voice.

The man refused to rise to the bait. Albus' estimation of him went up. "Children are children, Headmaster. I suspect that just like as you call us, muggle, children and wizard children's brains develop in a similar manner. There have been great strides in the education field in the last few years on developing new teaching techniques that are aimed at getting the most out of how children actually learn. We might not be able to teach your children how to cast a fireball spell, be can help educate your professors on best classroom practices to reach as many children's learning styles as possible."

At any other time in his life, Albus Dumbledore would have considered that the man might be right about the issues. But not at this time. There was too much at stake. He couldn't risk having foreign teachers, possibly spies in Hogwarts, or having muggles interfering with his staff."

"I'm sorry, but cannot guarantee the safety of your advisers during the school year."

"Albus, the school year doesn't start for another two months. We can arrange to have your staff attend muggle seminars in London to instruct them on best practices. No muggle advisers ever need set foot in Hogwarts," Greengrass pressed. "And it will help with funding of the school, and actually teaching your students instead of throwing information at them and hoping that enough survive to pass their exams."

"That's unfair, Scaravanger," Dumbledore said.

"Nonetheless it is true." He sighed and said, "And I'm afraid this is not open to negotiation. I have enough support in the Wizengamot to make it a decree, Albus. I don't want to do that because it will embarrass you, and take you away from other important duties." He took a deep breath and said, "You, like me are getting up in your years, Albus. You can't keep up this schedule of fighting death eaters _and_ running a school. Please don't force me to go over your head on this."

"Exactly what do you want me to do, Scaravanger?" Albus asked.

The old warlock smiled an said, "I'm glad you asked. Why don't we sit down and go over our proposal."

"I get the feeling that this is going to be more of a decree than a proposal, but let's hear it out," Albus said hoping to stall for time.

"It doesn't have to be, Albus," Scaravanger said. And the threat was there.

Thirty minutes into the proposal/decree, Albus began to realize that there were advantages to the proposal and there were just as many unacceptable aspects to it as well. "I'm uncomfortable with this shifting of my faculty."

"Most of your faculty will stay here, Albus. With full salary, of course. Some will have their workload lightened, others will be moved into supervisory roles. You'll notice that we're increasing your total operations budget by over a hundred percent."

"You are replacing Hagrid, Professors Snapes, Binns, and Trelawney."

"Hagrid will keep his position as groundskeeper, but not as professor for the care of magical creatures class. There will be no reduction in salary." Greengrass leaned back, and then said, "And I've already asked the Wizengamot to revisit the charges against him that led to his expulsion from Hogwarts."

"That's cold comfort after all these years."

"He would be able to openly carry his wand," Greengrass told him.

"Trelawney?"

"Will retire will full pension," Tell said.

"A pension won't make a difference for Binns," Albus argued.

"Maybe not, but he can't be allowed to continue in his current role," Greengrass leaned in and said, "The man was a bore when he was alive, and being dead hasn't improved his lessons. He can either move to become one of the castle's ghostly troop, or we can have him exorcised. But the farce of him being an actual teacher has gone on far too long. Our students consistently have the lowest scores of all the schools in Europe." Greengrass sneered and said, "Even the Americans score higher than we do in history."

"And Severus?"

"He has a choice to retire, or become head of the new alchemy department that will focus on practical application of potions, transfiguration, and charms. But under no circumstances will he be allowed to teach another class, or supervise any students."

"What about Professor McGonagall?" Albus asked.

"Currently she holds three positions at Hogwarts, deputy headmistress, a role for which she is far better qualified than anybody I can think of, head of House Gryffindor, and professor of transfiguration. She's over-worked, Albus. I want to keep her as deputy headmistress, and let her pick one of the other two roles to keep, and give the other to one of the new incoming professors."

"Who do you have in mind for those?" Albus asked worriedly.

"Only one of which you will recognize," Greengrass said. "Horace Slughorn has agreed to come out of retirement to teach potions. The others we have in mind are listed as an addendum, including their qualifications at the bottom."

Albus rolled the scroll down to the bottom and read the list of over twenty new suggested teachers. There were names on the liste from Ireland, Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand, Canada, Torshaven, Iceland, Norway, France, Bulgaria, and Luxemborg. There was even an American. All of which were well qualified, if some of them were somewhat young."

Albus sat back and asked, "Let's be honest with each other, Scaravanger. What is your role in all of this-honestly. And, how much of this is fiat and decree, and how much of it do I have any actual say?"

"May I?" Tell asked Scaravanger.

The older man nodded and said, "The Ministry, and Her Majesty's government have a vested interest in keeping Lord Potter in Great Britain, even more so than you do, Professor Dumbledore. His guardian has threatened to pull him out of Hogwarts and out of Britain and enroll him in one of their schools on Skyhome. Furthermore, the Goblin King Jareth has suggested that he might come and have Gringott's examined for failing to identify Potter as a member of the fae. That could collapse the European wizarding economy. Those are the cards that are on the table, Professor. We might be willing to negotiate some of the names on there, maybe a better pension package for those professors who are being displaced. But make no mistake, this is not a conversation."

Exactly where did you attend school, Mr. Tell?" Albus asked.

The other man smiled and said, "I did my magical training at Beaubatons, Sir. After that I got a bachelors in political science from Columbia University and a Masters in Economics from Harvard."

"So you have no attachments to Britain?"

"Sir, I am a British citizen through and through. However, I am not part of the "good ol' boy network" that makes up the British Wizarding primary system, so I can at least give you fair assessment of the situation."

Albus nodded. He was not happy about non-Hogwarts men giving orders on the dispensation of how Hogwarts was going to be run. "And these muggle seminars?"

"Your staff will have a choice of attending either at the University of Aberdeen, Dundee, Glasgow, or Exeter. They will of course receive pay for attending, and they will last from 15, July to 15, August. There will be continuing education for the faculty over the next five years until they've earned the equivalent of a muggle Bachelors of Arts in education," Greengrass said. "You and Minerva, and any professor that wishes to advance to a supervisory role will of course need to continue to a Master's level."

"My staff and I have decades of experience in our job," Albus told him.

"And you will be given credit for that. But you are going to have to step into the twentieth century when it comes to your teaching model," Greengrass replied.

"And if I refuse?"

"We have a new headmaster for Hogwarts waiting in the wings."

"You wouldn't dare!" Albus replied.

"I've already got the necessary votes in the Wizengamot, Albus. There are a lot of wizards out there that realize you and the Dark Lord are about to take knives to each other again. You are going to be too busy with that, to be of much use in educating our children." Greengrass looked to the others and then added, "Think of this as a way of us taking off some of your workload to make it easier for you to deal with."

"You've never supported my war with Voldemort in the past," Albus said.

"And we don't now. But we know that when the two most powerful wizards in Britain decide to go to war, all we can do is either take sides, or hunker down and hope to survive and that the two of you wipe each other out. Now you are dragging our children into it and we won't that tolerate anymore."

"That's unfair," Albus protested. "And not entirely accurate."

"Explain Dumbledore's Army, then," Tell challenged.

"It was a student organization,"

"Yet you took credit for it," Tell said.

"To keep Mister Potter from being expelled."

"Who later led an assault by said army on the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries where Lord Black was killed."

Albus hung his head. He knew then that he had lost. Now all he could do was try and mitigate the damage. He could lose it all, including his most powerful weapon, or he could capitulate to the Ministry and still fight Voldemort from the trenches. "Very well."

"Very well, what?" Greengrass asked.

"We will implement these changes. I will speak to the professors involved about their choices and will inform the Ministry by the end of the week."

Tell nodded and told him, "Very wise, Professor Dumbledore. Upon receiving your answers, those who choose to stay at Hogwarts, will receive their vouchers for the seminars."

"You are actually going through with that part?" Albus ask in surprised hoping that they would at least drop the charade of this being non-political when he capitulated.

"Of course, Professor," Tell said. "Like we told you in the beginning, this is not a political move. This is a move to improve Britain's premier school of witchcraft and wizardry. The events of the Triwizarding Contest did not reflect well on Britain."

"We won that contest!" Albus protested.

"Try convincing Amos Diggory of that," Tell said. "It was an unmitigated disaster. The Goblet of Fire's defenses were breached, an operative of the Dark Lord replaced one of your instructors, and a student died. There were complaints about how the students at Hogwarts treated poor Mister Potter by none other than the heads of school for both Durmstrang _and_ Beauxbatons. And trust me, Headmaster, when Olympe Maxim files an official complaint, you can guarantee that she's done her homework." He shook his head, "I reiterate. This is not about your war with the Dark Lord, this is not about politics in the Wizengamot, and it's not about your feud with Minister of Magic, Fudge who is not long for his job. This is about repairing the damage done to Hogwarts' reputation. I wouldn't send my own children to school here."

"That's unkind," Albus protested.

"It's the cold hard facts, Headmaster. You and the Dark Lord can go and blast each other into next week sideways. But we're going to make Hogwarts safe. We're going to make it a better school, with or without you."

 _Albus nodded and a very frightening thought occurred to him. What if this truly was not political? What if it was about seeing to the education of the children of Britain? What if he had become so focused on his war with Tom Riddle, training a new Order of the Phoenix that he had failed the rest of the students?_ Those were sobering thoughts, and ones that he could not allow to take hold in his heart, lest he lose to Riddle; lest Voldemort prove to be the better wizard.

Nodding his head, he took the hate piece of paper in front of him and said, "I will inform my instructors. In the meantime, I have an appointment with Lord Daire about Mister Potter's curriculum plan.

"Well, we certainly don't want to interfere with that," Grant said standing. He offered his hand to Albus to shake.

For long moments Dumbledore stood there looking at it. Mainly in surprise that a muggle had dared to meet him across the table, and actually come out ahead. With some reluctance, he shook the blond's hand.

* * *

Albus was busy receiving visitors from the Ministry of Magic as well as the Wizengamot, so Minerva agreed to conduct Lords Daire and Potter to the hospital wing to see to Severus. She could no longer deny the reality of Harry being made the Earl of Murias. It had been a long time since the school had seen an active House Lord as a student, and it was going to take some getting used to on her part. Also, some adjustments in several people's attitude

She watched young Lord Daire hover over the gaunt form of Severus touching unseen points in the air and seeming to pull them into some kind of invisible tapestry. "Can you see what I'm doing Harry?" he asked quietly.

Potter nodded and said, "You are pulling the strings of his causality away from his soul. I can't tell what they are, but I can see the strings."

"Can you see the matrix?"

Harry nodded and said, "Yes. But I don't understand it."

"You don't have to understand it right now. But I want to make sure you can see what I'm doing."

"Exactly what _are_ you doing?"Minerva asked.

"I'm reweaving his connection to the universe. I'm not quite taking away his sense of guilt, but I'm reducing it to its previous levels."

"That was a very cruel thing to do, Lord Daire," Minerva said.

"And emotional and physical abuse of a child, no, not a child, but children, is not? He got off lightly. Had it been any of my fathers they would have simply killed him. My mother would have sent him to the deepest darkest universe without magic she could find. My ennend would have given him the mind of a five year old and have him reeducated. I simply want him to reconsider his actions."

"And the curse that has yet to activate?" Poppy asked the cat-eared lord.

The dark-haired young man turned to Poppy and said, "Noticed that, did you?" He smiled and said, "Whether or not the curse activates is entirely up to him. You are more than welcome to tell him about it. It does have an escape clause."

"Which makes it a bloodline curse," Poppy said.

"Somehow I get the feeling that part isn't important."

"What is the curse?" Minerva demanded, her patience growing thin.

Daire touched Severus on the forehead and said, "Sleep. Dream of happier things if you know them, otherwise dream not." Then turning to Minerva he said, "Its quite simple. As long as he acts civilly and fairly toward children, then the curse will never activate. However, the first time he treats one unfairly, raises a hand to strike one, or punishes one unjustly, then the curse will activate and all the major organs in his body will begin to deteriorate. The only way to stop the deterioration is to make the situation right."

"You've crippled him," Minerva said.

"Then, he has no business being around children."

"He _needs_ to be here." Minerva gestured toward the door. "Let's talk in the hall."

When the smaller man had followed her, and she was sure that Poppy was out of earshot she whispered. "He has a mission here."

"Then he needs to control himself," Lord Daire told her. "It's entirely up to him. My cousin told me about the Order of the Phoenix and its mission to stop Voldemort." Minerva suppressed a shudder at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "What you don't understand is that piece of Tom Riddle's soul that resided in Harry's scar has been removed. Voldemort will no longer be able to "peek in" on Harry's thoughts, or send him visions like the one that resulted in Sirius Black leaving this world."

 _There is at least that._ _Now, Albus' plans will have to be changed to not necessarily include Harry dying to destroy the Dark Lord._ "That at least is good news," Minerva said looking back into the medical wing where Harry stood staring out the window toward the Black Lake. "The Dark Lord is not going to give up on him though. There's the prophecy."

"Exactly what does this prophecy say?" Hunter asked her.

Minerva again looked at Harry and said, "I'm not supposed to know this. But I'm not going to throw the boy to the wolves blindly. Hell, I won't throw him to the wolves period. This thing has gotten too far out of hand. But the prophecy that Harry retrieved from the Department of Mysteries was this." She took a deep breath and repeated it, word for word. " _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives._ "

Lord Daire nodded his head and said, "And Harry's fae magic would qualify as a power this dark lord knows not."

"Professor Dumbledore thinks it's a mother's love."

Daire smiled and said, "I'll put my trust in Harry's magic before that. Voldemort had no idea what power he was unleashing when he killed a fae noble, even one who had rejected her birthright. This explains a lot though. It has come full bloom in Harry now, both his power and hers. So it could be a mother's love, if you count a mother's love as giving her power to him."

"What do you suggest we do?"

Daire sighed and said, "Run both Voldemort and Dumbledore through with a blade of good fae steel would be my first inclination, especially since both seem bent on seeing my cousin killed." Minerva began to protest, but he held up a hand and said, "But that's an emotional reaction, not a logical, nor necessarily even a desirable one."

"Well at least there is that. Still to my question?"

Daire sighed and said, "The way I see it, I have two choices. The first is to develop a _real_ curriculum plan for him here at Hogwarts. It's where he's comfortable, and he actually has a few friends as well. But I get the feeling that such a plan is going to require a major overhaul of Hogwarts' teaching philosophy. You seem to be stuck in a very outmoded teaching model."

"And second?"

"Take Harry to Feyhold, enroll him in a school on Skyhome and withdraw my request for leniency to King Jareth when he audits Gringotts. Watch the whole country, maybe the whole continental wizarding community collapse." He sighed and said, "You have to understand, my mother is starting to get restless and the more reports she receives on what has happened to her nephew, the more vexed she becomes. That is never a good thing."

"Then let's hope we can make your first option the more palatable to all involved," Minerva told him.

Daire stopped and looked at her. "You know, Professor. I think you actually believe that. That's a good sign."

"I'm still concerned about this curse," Minerva said.

"It stays," Daire said with a tone of finality. "The man himself has the opportunity to make sure it never activates."

"At what price?"

"Being a decent man," Daire told her. It was an argument she could not counter.

Turning back toward the hospital wings, she asked, "How is Harry doing? He seems different. I don't mean just the physical changes. I mean he seems more confident, more comfortable in his own skin."

"He's recovering. A week of good fae food in him has made a difference. He's reacting well to the environment at Muriashome, and the staff there are developing a genuine affection for their new lord. He's adapting to his lessons quickly, and his lessons are proceeding apace."

"Can you really teach him to master fae magic before the end of the summer?" she asked.

"No. Fae magic requires decades if not centuries to master. But he will have the basics down. He will have a decent repertoire of spells and charms, and he will know how to moderate the rate he draws on the magic of fairy. That way he won't accidentally blast holes in the walls of the castle under the influence of strong emotions."

Minerva smiled and said, "That's appreciated." She paused a moment and then asked, "The representative from the Ministry of Magic said something about Harry being able to perform Daeoni Matrix Magic? Is that what you were demonstrating to him?"

"He has the potential. But we're not going to begin lessons on that just yet. He has enough on his plate as it is. We start combat training next week."

"Combat training? You mean dueling?"

Daire shook his head, "Not with wands, if that's what you mean. I will leave that to you here at Hogwarts. I mean sword play, pistols, hand-to-hand, spellcraft and fighting while polymorphed."

Minerva shook her head, "Wizards don't use pistols, or other muggle weapons."

"Then explain the Sword of Gryffindor."

"I meant modern muggle weapons."

"That's why you lose to Voldemort," Daire said.

"It's not in our nature."

"It will be in Harry's. You Brits seem to fear the idea of an armed populace. It makes you vulnerable to people like Voldemort and Grindewald. My parents taught me the arts of war, peace, and diplomacy from an early age. Harry hasn't had that advantage, but I and my mother intend to correct that situation."

Minerva nodded. "It's not the usual way we do things."

"That is up to you of course. But my cousin will know how to defend himself. If I have my way, when I'm finished, when he faces off with this Voldemort, he's going to take him apart piece by piece and each cut, each drop of blood he draws will be dedicated to the memory of his parents and all those who died at the hands of this bloody monster." He smiled and added, "As a good Scotswoman, you should be able to appreciate that."

Minerva was taken aback by the ferocity in the man's voice. This was something she should have suspected though. Tales of the fae folk were spread wide across the Highlands, and the lengths they would go for revenge was legendary. "I think I understand."

"Perhaps," Daire said.

Before she could reply, Professor Flitwick came into the hall and said, "Your Highness, Professor McGonagall, the Headmaster's visitors have departed. He sent me to ask you to join him."

"Thank you Filius," she told the Charm's professor. Turning to Harry, she said, "Potter, the headmaster wants us in his office."

"Coming Professor," Potter said before stepping back from the window. He glanced at the sleeping form of Professor Snape and shook his head.

The the whole trip down to the Headmaster's office, Harry remained uncharacteristically quiet. "Have you heard from any of your classmates over the summer, Harry?" she asked trying to get him to talk.

"Ron and Hermione sent me owls telling me that Professor Dumbledore asked them not to contact me over the summer. Luna and Neville have sent several owls each. I'm sorry that I've been too busy to do more than acknowledge that I've received them." He blushed. "I'm afraid, I'm a bit behind on my correspondences."

That comment was so unlike Harry, that she nearly glanced at him twice. "I believe your manners are improving, Harry. I'm glad to see it."

"I get daily lessons in etiquette, Professor,"

"Really?" she asked looking at Daire.

"Harry eventually will need to function in the Courts Immortal. He needs to know what kind of behavior is expected from him, both there, and here."

Minerva found herself approving, and even more surprised that she did so. "Well, it's clear that Harry is working hard."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied.

"Tomorrow, we begin history lessons and thanks to one of the Elder-Warlocks of the Wizengamot, we're going to be exploring the etiquette of the wizarding world."

"That's good to hear. Sometimes I wish we still had such a class here at Hogwarts."

"It would have been useful, Professor," Harry said.

"I've no doubt," McGonagall said putting an arm across Harry's shoulders. The first thing she noticed was the hard muscle underneath the suit jacket he was wearing. Life as a fae really did seem to be agreeing with him.

After Daire and the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office exchanged pleasantries, they entered and found Albus with a rather troubled look on his face as he studied a scroll. Looking up at them, he smiled sadly and said, "Lord Daire. Thank you for coming."

"You said that you had Harry's curriculum plan ready for discussion."

"I did, we did," Albus said with a frown. "However, I just received a decree from the Ministry of Magic and from the Wizengamot that will make it an exercise in futility."

Minerva watched the fae lord carefully wondering how he was going to react. Much to her surprise, he said, "Okay, let's take a look at what you have, and then compare it to what the Ministry wants you to do."

Even Albus reacted in surprise. "Why? You got what you wanted."

"Headmaster, I'm unsure what you think my goals were, but let me reiterate them. I want my cousin to receive the best education possible, and I want him to survive to become a productive member in whichever society he chooses to walk. Beyond that, I have little interest in your war with this Voldemort," Daire replied. "Now, let's sit down and discuss Harry's education. Let's talk about his strengths and his weaknesses, how we can fortify his shortcomings and build on his strengths."

Albus watched Daire carefully for several seconds before indicating a large round table. "Very well, let's sit down and discuss what you want Harry to get out of this coming school year. I can't make any definite plans right now on class schedules or testing, or even faculty, as there are going to be some significant changes over the next few months."

In Minerva's mind, that did not bode well for the coming year. Still they sat down and discussed his O.W.L. scores and in which subjects he had excelled and the ones where he needed help. "I'm not sure if I want to continue with potions," Harry said when the subject came up. "Not if it means that I have to work with Professor Snape."

Albus chuckled and said, "Professor Snape will not be teaching potions this upcoming year." Minerva was not able to suppress the double-take this time. "Professor Horace Slughorn will be returning to Hogwarts to take up that post."

"What position will Severus have? Minerva asked nervously, afraid the man had been sacked.

"He will be heading up our new Alchemy Department. He will no longer be teaching, but will be in an administrative role. _When_ he accepts it." Minerva got the message. More had happened with the meeting with the Ministry than even she could have believed.

When the meeting was over, and much to Minerva's surprise, Daire seemed to be satisfied, Minerva found herself sitting in Albus' office trying to fathom what had happened. Finally, with some trepidation, she broached the subject. "Albus, exactly what did the Ministry say? What's all this about. There were quite a few names missing from that syllabus."

"The ministry has given us everything we could want." He handed her the decree. "And tied our hands at the same time."

Minerva took the scroll and began reading. It was almost everything they'd ever asked the Ministry for over the years all rolled into one and wrapped in a nice bow. "What's the problem here?" she asked. "Sure some of us get moved around a bit, but they even took care of the teachers who are our weaknesses."

"I need things in place as they are," Albus said. "What I don't need is a gaggle of new teachers of whose loyalties I'm unsure."

"Personal loyalties?" Minerva asked. "Or overall loyalties?"

"Both," Albus said. "I am beginning to suspect that Tom Riddle used something far worse than the unforgivable curses to preserve his life. I think part of it involved Harry, and that Lord Daire has undone what was done either deliberately, or by accident. But what he's done has severed the connection between the two."

"That's a good thing," Minerva said.

Albus nodded, but Minerva got the feeling that he might not have felt so. "It depends on what he did with the part of Voldemort that was in Harry's scar. Did he release it to the aether, or did he trap it in something?"

"I don't know," he said. "He just told me that it had been removed."

"I'm starting to have a sinking feeling that Voldemort has used the most foul of magics to preserve himself. And if what I think is true, we are going to have to find more pieces of his soul and destroy their vessels."

"Then this thing the Ministry has done gives us more room to work."

"I'm not sure, Minerva. I'm not sure. I dislike it when people change my agenda."

"Well, I for one am glad that at least one thing has changed. If that soul-shard that was in Harry has been removed, that means he doesn't have to die in order to destroy Voldemort."

"Perhaps," Albus said. Then he added, "Let's hope so." Some small traitorous part of Minerva's mind thought wondered if he really did hope so.


	7. A Chance Meeting

**AN/ Another short chapter today. I apologize, but I can't seem to stay awake today. I went back and rewatched GoF through H-BP. My original plan was to be a lot harder on Hermione than this chapter suggests. But I am honest enough to admit that most of my dislike of the character comes from J.K. Rowling's comments about her, and from Emma Watson herself, not the way the character is written or portrayed. The scene where Harry comforts Hermione and vice-versa in the owlery pretty much cinched it for me. Ginny and Ron however, are a different story, although I put most of that off on Molly. Also, I checked the wiki to find out where Hermione lived. Turns out she's from Hampstead, which means that odds are that her family is rather wealthy.**

* * *

"Mum and Dad didn't want us coming today," Ron said sitting down across from Luna and Hermione and next to Neville at Hollybee's, a nice cozy cafe on Southside Diagon Alley. It was a place Harry had told her had been one of his favorites the summer he'd spent here after running away from the Dursleys. She had to admit that it had a nice homey atmosphere, and even the small courtyard that was partially exposed to the street, it felt cozy and quiet.

Hermione nodded her head and said, "I understand. Did you happen to go by Florean Fortescue's?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "It was boarded up tight. "Just a reminder of why Mum is so worried about us coming here. People are disappearing all across the country. People are worried. The only reason she agreed was because you said we might see Harry. She's worried about him."

"Have any of you heard from him?"

"Just a couple of quick owls apologizing for not writing and explaining that he was safe, busy, and studying," Luna said. "The parchment was quite expensive."

"Harry studying?" Ron asked.

"Harry studies," Hermione protested. "It's just his family tries to lock up his things over the summer." Hermione said as she wondered how Ron could claim that he was Harry's best friend and not notice how Harry would devour any book that he thought would give him some practical knowledge—or was about quidditch.

"It's mental if you ask me," Ron said shaking his head. "Nobody but you studies over the summer."

"I've heard a little more," Neville said quietly.

"What?" Ginny nearly demanded. "What did he say to you?"

"He asked me to ask Gran about a few things." He turned to Luna and said, "And you're right. Even Gran commented about the parchment."

"What did he ask you about?" Ginny demanded.

"He wanted to know about the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He also had some questions about Hogwarts and some other stuff," Neville said quietly. Hermione could tell that 'some other stuff' was covering up something, but she chose to wait and ask him about it later.

"What does he want to know about that bunch of snobs?" Ron demanded. Quickly, Ginny kicked him under the table.

Then realizing some mistake, he said, "Sorry."

Neville frowned and said, "Don't worry about it."

"What did he say to you?" Hermione asked Luna.

"About the same. He did ask me a few other things."

"Oh?" Ron asked in surprise. Hermione tried to warn him with a surreptitious yet vigorous shake of her head but as usual he was completely oblivious. "What?"

"About my mum, mainly," Luna replied in a detached voice. "He was very polite, and apologized if it upset me. He was very sweet about the whole thing."

"Now what could that all be about?" Ron asked.

"Ron, why don't you go with me to get our butter beers?" Hermione said standing and grabbing the ginger boy by the arm, not giving him a choice.

"They'll bring them to u..." Ron protested as she forced him from his seat. She caught Ginny shaking her head at her brother.

When they were several feet away from the table, Hermione hissed under her breath, "Don't you understand, Ron? Harry is asking Neville and Luna about their families. What do all three of them have in common?"

"How should I know?" Ron protested.

Hermione resisted the urge to use a technique she'd seen on one of her mum's favorite American shows about a group of Navy crime investigators. "They've all lost a parent in one way or another!" she hissed again. "Something has Harry is missing his family. With Sirius gone, he has to be hurting even more."

"Why didn't he say something?"

"Because you and I have our families," she said. "Luna and Neville don't. He's trying to make a connection to someone other than us."

"Why would he do that?" Ron demanded.

The urge became too great. She couldn't help it. Nearly of its own accord, her arm reached out and slapped him in the back of the head. "Are you really that self-centered? We aren't Harry's only friends."

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"Come on, Ron," she told him dropping the subject. "Let's get the butter beers and get back to the table. I'm worried about Harry."

A few moments later, they were settling back into their table. Ginny was shaking her head and saying, "Dad can't figure it out."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"There's been a lot of scrambling at the Ministry. Delores Umbridge has been transferred to the Centaur Liaison Office."

"Strange place for her, considering recent events," Hermione commented.

Ron snickered and said, "Couldn't happen to a better person." Then turning to Hermione, he added, "The inside joke a the ministry is that being sent to the Centaur Division means you're about to get the sack."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "An undersecretary?"

Ron nodded his head. "There's a whole bunch of stuff that's going on that has even Dad spooked. The goblins are calling in all kinds of overdue loans, collecting collateral, and becoming even more difficult. There's a group in the Wizengamot led by Scaravanger Greengrass who are moving people around all over the Ministry. They're the ones responsible for Umbridge being moved."

"Daphne Greengrass' father?" Hermione asked.

"Grandfather, I believe," Ron said.

"She's a Slytherin. You think this is a move against Dumbledore?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't know. Mum said that Greengrass and his group are sheep. They didn't fight in the last wizarding war on either side. They were also keen on prosecuting _anybody_ on _either_ side that they thought broke the law during the war. And they were very lenient on people who got caught in the middle. They're the reason so many of the witches and wizards could claim to be under the imperious curse and get away. They have no love for You-Know-Who, but they aren't fans of Dumbledore or the Order either."

"Dad says that they've more than tripled Hogwarts's budget this year and have been hiring a lot of witches and wizards from outside the country," Ginny said.

Neville nodded and replied, "Gran says that most of them are muggle-born or half-bloods."

"What does the Quibbler say about it?" Hermione asked Luna.

The blonde delicately put down her butter beer, shrugged and said, "Not a lot. Dad has been covering another lead." She paused, looked around and said, "Did you know that one of the fae titles has been activated?"

"No," Ron said.

"That's the last thing we need," Ginny commented darkly. "We really don't want _them_ to get involved." She nearly spat out the word them.

"Fae? What's wrong with them?" Hermione asked.

"What's wrong with them?" Ron demanded. "Baby stealing for one! They call it fostering, but it's still baby-stealing. They steal human babies and leave one of their own in its place. Then when the baby is an adult they switch them back! And let's not forget trolls are considered fae, and so are goblins, and about half the dark creatures we know about. If you ask me, the American's are welcome to them."

"Then why activate a title?" Hermione asked. "And what does that mean activate a title?"

"It means that a fae lord or lady has entered Britain and claimed an ancestral title that existed prior to the Massacre of the Bells. It has only happened a couple of times in the past two hundred fifty years, and it usually really shakes things up. The last time was during Grindewald's War," Neville said. "Since the American and British government were forced to work together so closely a fae lord was sent to advise Prime Minister Churchill and General Eisenhower," Neville said with far less animosity in his voice.

"You know that most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight bloodlines have fae blood in them, don't you?" Luna asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I didn't. What's that got to do with anything?"

"It means that those bloodlines aren't purely human," Ginny nearly spat. "They get all high and mighty about centaurs, and merfolk, but then turn around and marry into some of the most capricious and dangerous magical beings in history. The Malfoy's married veelas, the Greengrasses and Blacks tended to marry fae with a few alfar thrown into the mix, and the Longbottoms married pookas which are a type of fae."

And in a comment that was so out of character for her, Luna shook her head and said, "And the Weasleys?"

"Weasleys are part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Hermione asked.

"Don't remind us," Ron said. "It's a disgusting thing to be proud of."

"That's a matter of taste, Ron," Neville said. "You don't have to be a bigot to appreciate that your family is one of the oldest in the magical world."

"A person doesn't have any control over into which family they are born. It's not something to be proud of," Ginny said. "It's like having red hair. It doesn't mean anything."

Before Hermione could reply, Luna said, "Look, there's Harry. Who is that with him?"

"Better question is _what_ is that with him?" Ron said.

"Oh dear," Luna replied as Hermione turned to look in the direction the blonde had indicated. "Harry!" Luna called out. "Over here!"

Finally sighting her dark-haired friend, she realized why she hadn't noticed him. Gone was his usual jeans, trainers and tee shirt, and in their place was a dark set of slacks, loafers, and a turtleneck. Also his hair was somewhat longer, pulled back into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck and held by what appeared to be a ribbon of black silk. He looked a bit leaner, a bit more vulpine, but even at this distance, she could make out the outline of his scar.

Next to him was a short well dressed man wearing dark slacks and a jacket over a matching shirt. He was much shorter than Harry, with hair so black as it flashed back blue in the summer sunlight. Most remarkably was the set of black cat ears on the top of his head and the long black cat tail trailing behind him that seemed to have a mind of its own.

Both Harry and his companion turned toward their table. Harry began to wave, but the man with him said something and he stopped. Hermione noticed a large ring on Harry's finger. Instead, Harry smiled and changed direction toward their table. The other man smiled and followed.

"Harry, join us?" Neville asked with a sly smile as Hermione launched herself from her seat into Harry's arms.

"Harry! It's good to see you!" she said noticing that he had the faint odor of cedar about him. It smelled good.

The others rose from their chairs to greet their friend with hugs. Hermione noted that Neville simply stood and nodded politely, grinning hugely as Luna joined him with a slight curtsey and giggle.

"What's this all about?" Ron demanded stepping back and noting the change in Harry's clothes. "You look like you raided Malfoy's clothes cupboard!"

"There's no need to get nasty," Harry said. Hermione caught the look of hurt flash across his eyes.

"I for one think it looks good," Hermione said. "It's about time you treated yourself."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry said. Then turning to his companion he went into a very formal mode of speech, "Hermione Granger, Ronald and Genevra , Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, this is my cousin, His Royal Highness Prince Hunter Daire of Feyhold. Your Highness, these are my friends, Ron, Hermione, Luna, and Neville."

"Feyhold?" Ron asked surprised.

"Cousin?" Ginny demanded.

"Cousin," Harry said. "His mother and my mother were sisters."

"I thought your mother's only sister was your Aunt Petunia," Ron said.

The man behind Harry cleared his throat. "It's a pleasure to meet Harry's friends."

Remembering her manners, Hermione along with Neville and Luna quickly curtsied and said, "Your Highness?"

The prince smiled and said, "Yes. But please call me Hunter. It will be far easier than formal titles. The only reason I insisted on Harry using them is he must become accustomed to such things soon. They have no place between friends."

"You didn't answer my question," Ron demanded.

Harry grinned broadly and said, "It turns out that Petunia wasn't my mother's blood-sister. She was her fosterling sister. My mother was originally from Fairy."

"Then it was your title that was activated?" Luna asked.

Harry looked down at the ring on his finger and nodded. "Yes. I'm still getting used to it." He looked over at his cousin and said, "Hunter is trying to help me not make too many mistakes."

"Too many mistakes?" Ron demanded. "What's this all about Harry?"

"It's a long story Ron," Harry said. "I'll be glad to tell you about it later." Then smiling over at the others, he said, "But we're in sort of a hurry. We've got an appointment at Chathamme and Howe."

He stopped for a moment and looked to his cousin for affirmation about something. The other man simply shrugged, and said, " _You_ are lord of the manor."

Harry smiled and said, "You guys have been so good about having me to your home, why don't you come and spend a few days with me at Muriashome?"

"Muriashome? Where's that?" Hermione asked.

"Just outside of Exeter," Harry said reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulling out a small clip. Much to Hermione's surprise he handed each of them a card with an address on it. With a smile, she realized it was closer to Luna and the Weasley's than to her or Neville.

"You're not at your aunt's house?" Ron demanded.

Harry shook his head and said, "No, I'm never going back there. I'm at my house now. Evidently, it's my ancestral home."

"What about the prophecy?" Ginny demanded.

"What about it?

The power the Dark Lord knows not. Your mother's love?" the redhead replied.

"We have it covered," Daire said quickly. Then turning to Harry he said, "We really do need to be on our way, Harry."

Harry gave them a sad look and said, "He's right. But, please, come this weekend?"

"I would be honored, My Lord," Luna said with a giggle.

"Luna, please don't call me that. You of all people, I couldn't handle calling me that."

"I'll be there," Neville said.

'I'm sure I can make it," Hermione replied.

Ron and Ginny looked at each other and frowned. "We'll ask Mum."

"Please do," Harry replied. Then turning to his cousin he said, "I guess we'd better hurry." Turning back he said, "See you later." And then they left.

"That was surprising," Hermione said excitedly, feeling a great sense of joy for her friend finding family he didn't know he had.

"Not really," Luna said.

"Really?" Ginny asked.

"I knew it the moment I saw the changes in him. Did you not notice the points on his ears?" Luna replied.

Ginny nodded. "Don't remind me."

"What's wrong, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

Ginny stood and said, "This is more than I can take right now. Ron, let's go home."

Ron looked at Hermione and said, "Sorry." Then turning to his sister, he said, "Come on." Taking her arm, he turned back to Hermione and whispered, "I'll explain later."

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked Neville as the two Weasleys disappeared down the street.

"I'm not sure, but I think the Weasely's prejudices are showing," Neville said. "Don't get me wrong, I like Ron, but sometimes he and his family can have prejudices as strong as other families. They just take them into the opposite direction. Ron has never been comfortable around non-humans. Just look at the way he reacts to Hagrid. Every time Hagrid is around, Ron tenses up."

"To be fair, sometimes Hagrid doesn't know his own strength," Hermione defended her sort-of boyfriend.

"Just watch him next time," Neville replied. Then looking down at the card, he said, "I'm looking forward to this, I hope Gran lets me go."

"What is Chathamme and Howe?" Hermione asked. "Sounds like a solicitor's office."  
"They are," Neville said. "One of the most exclusive in wizarding Britain."

"Wonder what that's all about?"

"I'm sure Harry will let us know in his own time," Luna said quietly.


	8. Unexpected Mercy

The trip to the solicitor's office had been another surprise. Sirius had left everything except Grimmauld Place and a sizable trust to Harry. Those he left to his longtime friend, Remus. What had surprised Harry was that it also named him as the final Lord of House Black. That bequest left him firmly entrenched not only in the British wizarding world, but in the Wizengamot as well. And according to the goblins, the rest of the contents of the Black vaults left him with more money than any three wizarding families in Britain combined.

But when it was over, they had once again returned to Muriashome and revisited his lessons in fae magic, and had added combat training as well. It was a lot of work, and he went to bed most evenings near exhaustion. But for the first time since he learned that Voldemort was trying to kill him that he felt he was actually doing something to make a difference. He was not only training to win the war, but to have a life beyond that. And that was a sobering thought. He was starting to feel as if up until now, he'd only been taught enough to do a job, and then left to have as much of a childhood as he could.

It was an afternoon following a morning of training that had including unarmed fighting, swords, and even some pistol practice, that he found himself once again working with Hunter on actually weaving combat spells with fae magic. Although he was tired, he was not exhausted and frustrated the way Snape's occlumency lessons had left him. Instead, he felt like he was actually making progress, becoming stronger and better than he was.

"You've got the spells down, Harry," Hunter told him. "Now ingraining in you how to use them without thinking about them is our next step."

"Without thinking?" Harry asked.

"Not exactly. More along the line of seeing the ebb and flow of the battle, having the spell come to you without having to think about it, to _know_ what is to be done. Let's start with defensive spells."

"You mean like a shield spell?" Harry asked going over the memories of spells in his newly acquired repertoire.

"There are four basic types of energy from which you need to shield: kinetic, general energy, psychic, and spiritual. Kinetic shields, when done right can stop bullets, or even rampaging rage monsters."

"How? I mean, how can you deflect something moving as fast as a bullet?" Harry asked. "And what's a rage monster?"

His cousin smiled at him and said, "A werewolf under the influence of rage and the full moon would be an example of one. A mutate with claws and anger issues would be another, but that's a story for another time. As for stopping bullets, we're not parrying them like an anti-jinx spell. We're creating a barrier around you through which they can't pass. It will stay up until it's battered down, or you lower it. The trick is to learn how to make it porous to your attacks, but stop incoming ones. It's not a good idea to fire an eldritch bolt from inside the field if you haven't made it so the bolt can pass through it. Your the one who ends up a bloody mess. Another issue is anchoring it, releasing the anchor and then reanchoring it"

"Why does it need an anchor?" Harry asked.

"Because if it doesn't have one and you are hit with enough force, it'll send you bouncing along like a hamster in a ball. Remember, force equals mass times velocity."

"We don't cover a lot of physics at Hogwarts these days," Harry said.

"That's something we need to rectify. Magic rewrites the laws of physics at a quantum level. You have to know what laws you are breaking before you can figure out the best way to use them to your advantage."

"This sounds complicated," Harry said.

"It is. Like I said, it's not enough to just know the spells, you have to feel them, and use them when appropriate without thought."

"What about the other kinds of shields?" Harry asked. "Do they have the same kinds of problems?"

"Each has their own issues, but kinetic shields and to a lesser extent energy shields are the ones that are the most difficult because they can interact with the physical world around you. Making a mistake with a kinetic shield can get you or someone else killed. Same thing with an energy shield. If it interacts with your environment in the wrong way, you can set fire to the house, blow up a petrol station, or even fry the local electronics."

Harry nodded as he studied the spells he'd been taught. "I think I get the general idea. I just need to practice."

"And that's what we're going to do," Hunter told him. "Now let's start with the physical shield."

And so they began with Harry quickly learning which kind of shield to raise and when. It was exhausting, and at the end of the day, he collapsed into bed and slept soundly. Much to his surprise, and embarrassment, his dreams that night were filled with the coy smile his best friend, a certain brunette. The smile became much more, and Harry awoke in the morning needing a wash cloth.

Three days of hard training later, he received four owls at breakfast. Each one confirming a visit from his friends this weekend. Harry smiled and informed Lugh that they would be having mortal guests, this weekend, five friends from his school, and that he would like mortal meals prepared for those days. Lugh had smiled and left to make the preparations muttering in an amused tone about mortal teenagers.

Hunter just smiled at him and said, "I'm glad you're working on keeping up your friendships, Harry. You're luckier than I was. I grew up in a very loving home, but without a lot of friends. To this day I only have a handful, and they're very dear to me. Don't lose that."

"I'm trying not to," Harry said.

"I know. Your duties to the fae, and to the wizarding world, and now to the Wizengamot are going to take away your time with your friends. It's going to be a test of who will stand beside you, and who won't." He paused. "Which brings me to another question, an important one."

From the tone of Hunter's voice, Harry got the impression that they were entering heavy territory. "Go ahead."

"You once told me that you regretted the way you handled things with Draco Malfoy. That if you'd known more about the wizarding world, you might not have so blatantly insulted him. I know that you think his father is a vile human being and Draco is pathetic, but is that something you wish to try and ameliorate."

"I'm not sure I can," Harry said.

"If you could save Draco from following his father's path, would you do it?"

Harry sighed and said, "Draco _is_ pathetic, and there's little love lost between us, but I don't want to see anybody end up that cold, that snake-like. Why?"

"Just prior to the Massacre of the Bells, there was an adviser to King George who argued against driving the fae from Britain. He argued hard, yet unsuccessful, but he did try. His name was Septimus Malfoy. I can possibly use that as a bridge."

"How?" Harry asked.

"Lucius is in Azkaban. There's not much I can do about that, or you probably want me to do about it. But Malfoy values his family. If I can offer them safe-haven from Voldemort, put them out of his reach, then it will remove from Voldemort valuable financial resources."

"How?" Harry asked again.

"I have a castle in the Western Sea of Feyhold. It was a part of the lands established for my title as Grand Prion. Draco and his mother are welcome to stay there, safe and out of Voldemort's reach." He paused and added, "And under the careful watch of my own household staff. He can even continue his education at one of the schools there."

Harry considered it. Malfoy was, as the Americans say, a jackass. He was vain, he was conceited, and entitled. But something told Harry deep down inside that he wasn't the cold-blooded killer that Voldemort is, that his father is. Maybe it was time to break the cycle of influence. Finally, he nodded, "If he's willing to go, then I have no problem with it." Harry smiled and then added, "Strategic thinking, I think is what you called it."

"Exactly."

 **Harry Potter and the Fae Prince. Harry Potter and the Fae Prince.**

Gloom, despair, agony, all were terms that Lucius Malfoy had recently become quite familiar with. The bleakness of his surroundings, the terror of the dementors, and the shame of having failed the Dark Lord all weighed heavily on his mind. But not as heavily as the dread of what he feared the Dark Lord would do to Draco and Narcissa for his failure. Between bouts of despair and dread, he wracked his brains on how to escape, how to get his family free. It was a prison as much of his own making as that damnable Dumbledore and Potter.

He was deep in the throes of despair when the door to his cell creaked opened. "Malfoy, you have a visitor!"

Visitor? This was unheard of except from the Ministry itself. But then the door opened wider and in strode a man of grace and breeding like few Malfoy had ever met. He was short, dark-haired, and quite well dressed in a smartly cut navy blue suit. His eyes glittered a sapphire blue in the dim light, and a remarkable set of cats ears and tail melded to his form as if they were a natural part of him.

"Mr. Malfoy," the man said in a soft voice. "My name is Prince Hunter Daire, Heir Presumptive of the Winter Throne. You have heard of the Winter Throne?"

Lucius fought to cover the filth of his clothing as well as his surprise. "I have, Your Highness." Then bitterly, he indicated his cell. "I am sorry that I can't offer you accommodations befitting the station of a fae lord."

"It is not such accommodations I am here to seek for myself, but for your family," the man said.

"I don't understand."

"You are a servant of the Dark Lord?" Daire asked.

"That is what I am accused of."

"Over two hundred years ago, your ancestor Septimus sought to stay King George's hand at the Massacre of the Bells and was very nearly executed for his troubles. I am here to offer to repay that debt."

"How?" Lucius asked, a small spark of hope began to stir in his long dark heart.

"How important is your family to you?"

Lucius nearly cried. Either this was his salvation or the Dark Lord was playing with him, had found a way to torture him even further. "I would not see Draco walk the path I have chosen," he finally admitted, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.

The man nodded and said, "Then, as your family once tried to save mine, I will endeavor to save yours. Will you send a letter to your wife and son instructing them to follow me to safety?"

"What proof do I have that you are who you say you are?" Lucius demanded. "This could be one of the Dark Lord's tricks."

"What proof do you need?"

Lucius looked down at the dark mark on his arm. "Rid me of this."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Is that a sacrifice you would truly make?"

"It is. It was a mistake. The Dark Lord cares not for the issues important to me and my family. He wants power, that's all. He doesn't know how to exercise it to use it for the betterment of the pure-bloods."

"Voldemort is not a pure-blood. Why should he care about you?" Daire said.

The words hit Lucius like a hammer. Not a pure-blood? That would explain so much. He held out his arm, "Do it and I will write the letter."

"Will you seal your property, your assets from the Dark Lord?"

"Will you protect me and my family from him for doing so?" Lucius bargained.

"I will," Daire said. "But I cannot remove you from here. I can mitigate your stay, protect you from his minions." He paused and looked out the window where the dementors had gathered at a distance as if sensing that one of their prey was about to escape. I can even give you respite from those abominations. But I cannot defy the will of the lawful wizarding government."

"Very well."

"Write the letter. I will deliver the letter to your wife and son, and then move them to safety. Then you will make sacrifice." He produced a quill and parchment. "I'm afraid the letter must be in blood for it to be binding; for your wife to believe it."

Malfoy nodded. He knew that it was the only way. He took the blood-quill from the man and began to write. When he was done, he signed his name and affixed the agreed upon symbol so that she would know the letter was genuine. With a sigh, he handed it to the fae lord. "Please hurry, my son is supposed to take the dark mark soon as punishment for my failure."

The short man frowned, seized his arm with a strength like none Lucius had ever experienced, and asked, "Do you renounce the Dark Lord Voldemort and his mission? Do you hereby seal all your properties and holdings from the Dark Lord and all his minions?"

"Yes," Lucius could hear the desperation in his own voice and loathed it nearly as much as he loathed what he had become.

"Do you renounce the Dark Lord Voldemort and his mission? Do you hereby seal all your properties and holdings from the Dark Lord and all his minions?" the man repeated.

"Yes," Lucius repeated wondering if the man was deaf.

"Do you renounce the Dark Lord Voldemort and his mission? Do you hereby seal all your properties and holdings from the Dark Lord and all his minions?" the man asked again.

"Yes. How many times do I have to answer?!"

"Thrice asked, thrice answered, and affirmed," the man said pulling Lucius' arm out straight. Then with a single cutting motion of his other hand, a blinding pain shot through Lucius' body, racing up his arm, across his chest and down his other arm. It raced down his body and enveloped his head and vision. Lucius screamed as an image of the Dark Lord appeared in front of his eyes and snarled, " _You will pay for this Lucius Malfoy! Your family will pay with pain and death for your disloyalty!_ "

Then the pain subsided into a dull ache was left in his arm. He looked down to see that the arm lay on the stone floor, seeping some foul black viscous fluid. A raw burnt stump that throbbed and ached protruded from his elbow. But for the first time in over two decades, he felt his life was his. He felt free of the Dark Lord. "Please hurry. My wife, my son."

The man smiled and said, "As we agreed. Your wife and son will be safe from the Dark Lord until he's destroyed. Your home is sealed from him and his minions and will remain so until you have returned. I go now to draw a target on your back, Lucius Malfoy. But I am also placing protections on you. Do not leave this cell until you are so ordered by myself or one I direct to make such an order. You will be safe here." He then left.

Several moments later, one of the aurors entered his cell in near terror. He checked Lucius and sent for a healer. Then without a word, he collected the dead arm on the floor and left the room. It was nearly an hour later that a healer from St. Mungos appeared and began fussing over his arm. It was with some surprise for Lucius to realize that the dull ache in his arm was no match for the sense of elation of being free of his curse. He found the small spark of hope in heart had grown into a small fire, pushing back the darkness, and giving Lucius some peace.

 **Harry Potter and the Fae Prince. Harry Potter and the Fae Prince.**

It was nearly time to leave, and the dread in Narcissa's heart was pounding so loud that she wondered if Draco could hear it. Then looking over at her son, she realized that was probably not the case. She could see a similar dread in his own eyes that was probably drowning out her own. She loved her husband, but at this moment in time, she hated him for putting their family in this situation. Her own sister, Bellatrix was due to take them to the Dark Lord, where Draco would be forced to take the dark mark. Then she knew he was to be given an impossible mission. One that would surely see him killed, and all because Lucius had failed to retrieve something from the Department of Mysteries.

A rush of wind outside was a signal that Bellatrix had arrived. Narcissa fought back tears and steeled her heart for what was surely to follow. But the door never opened. Long moments went by with nothing to break the silence and peace of the Malfoy home. She and Draco cast glances at each other, each feeling the oppressive silence weighing down on them.

Then it was gone, and there was a faint knock at the door. Narcissa nearly leapt from her own skin. Bellatrix did not knock, none of the Dark Lord's minions did. With some trepidation she went to the door to find a short dark-haired man with a cat's ears and tail standing there. "Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy?"

Narcissa nodded. "My name is Hunter Daire of Feyhold. I have a missive from your husband, Lucius."

"Lucius?" Narcissa asked looking past the man into the front garden. There was a large scorch mark in the grass, and part of a stone fountain was molten slag.

The man smiled and said, "Your sister and her companions suddenly found somewhere else she'd rather be."

Taken aback, by the man's comment Narcissa again asked, "What's this about Lucius?"

"I have a letter from him," the man produced a folded piece of parchment. "May I come in?"

Narcissa nodded and stepped away from the door. She knew that the house's wards would stop him if he meant to do any violence to the occupants. "Please do, Mr. Daire."

"Is Draco here?" Daire asked. "The missive concerns him as well."

"He's in the parlor," Narcissa told him, leading the way, only occasionally glancing down at the parchment in her hands. "What's this all about?"

"Your husband has asked me to see to your safety. The missive will explain it."

Numbed by fear, worry and grief, Narcissa entered the parlor where Draco stood nervously in the corner. "Draco, this is Mister Daire. Mister Daire, my son Draco." Draco nodded but said nothing as Narcissa unfolded the parchment and began to read:

 _Dearest Narcissa,_

 _Due to certain actions of my ancestors, and through the kind offer from the fae, I've discovered a possible escape route for our family. To ensure your safety as well as Draco's I'm invoking the Head of House Bloodright. **You and Draco will obey this missive**._

 _First, both of you are to gather the things you will need for an extended stay. Do not worry with affairs of the manor, I will see to them. Then you are to seal Malfoy Manor and go with Prince Daire to wherever he chooses to take you. You both will obey his instructions that pertain to your safety. Under no circumstances are you to contact your sister, or in anyway answer any calls of the Dark Lord. Draco is not to take the dark mark. I am renouncing Lord Voldemort with all that entails and sending you to Feyhold, the one place on earth he dare not attack._

 _Be well my beloved, and know that I do this for you and our son. I would not see him walk the same path as I, and this is the one action I am left to take to ensure that. Know that I am safe, or as safe as can be in this hell-hole, safer actually._

 _Lord Lucius Malfoy._

At the bottom of his name was the symbol Narcissa was looking for. It was Lucius signal to her that he had written this of his free will. A tear of hope formed in her eye as she looked at the short man across the parlor from her. "Is this true?"

"He signed it less than ten minutes ago," the man said. "I broke the mark immediately after."

"Broke the mark? What are you talking about?" Draco demanded.

Narcissa sighed and handed her son the letter. He quickly read it, his face forming a dark scowl. Finally, he looked up and over to the man with the cat's ears. "Who is Prince Daire?"

The man smiled and said, "That would be me, Young Lord Malfoy. I am Prince Hunter Daire, Heir Presumptive of the Winter Throne Grand Prion of the Western Isles and Mynnyd. I have just come from your father's cell. He sends his regards." Then with a smile that showed his very sharp canines, he asked, "Now what do you need?"

Looking to his mother, he asked, "Can you trust this?" She could hear a spark of hope in his voice.

"It has the rune which your father and I agreed upon."

"What about Dumbledore? What about Potter?"

"Not your concern anymore," Daire said. "Please pack the things you will need. When you leave, this house will be sealed from Voldemort and his forces. It will not be reopened until either your father returns form Azkaban, or your assume the title of Lord Malfoy."

Narcissa could see first fear and then relief in her son's eyes. "Very well." Then with a bow, he said, "Your Highness."


	9. The Close of Summer

**AN/ We're moving into the regular school year. Things are definitely starting to diverge from canon and we are solidly into an AU. Hope you enjoy it. Please remember to drop me a line and let me know what you think:**

* * *

Unfortunately, Hermione having the furthest to travel was the last one to make it to Harry's home. And of course it proved difficult to locate as she searched and searched for the address unable to find the drive. It wasn't until she saw some strange movement under a footbridge across a slowly moving stream that she thought to use her wand.

Taking it out, she cast a quick Revello charm that allowed her mind to peel back the glamour that had been placed on a huge country home style mansion. Smiling slightly to herself she carefully crossed the bridge that had changed into a stone structure, far more elegant than the wooden footbridge she'd seen before. As she stepped off the other side, she turned back to see a troll dressed in an old-style livery sitting under the bridge carefully whittle a small log. He looked up, waved to Hermione and then went back to his work.

Shuddering at the memory of the troll in the girl's bathroom several years ago, she quickened her steps toward the front of the mansion. There, she was met by a short elegant man with quite pointed ears, and vulpine features. He was dressed in an English butler's uniform. "Welcome to Muriashome, Miss Granger. I am Lugh, Master Harry's estate captain. Master Harry and the rest of your friends are in the library."

"Thank you," Hermione said handing the man the umbrella she'd brought lest it rained.

Taking it, he said, "If you would follow me." He directed them out of the foyer to a large set of wooden doors at the back side of the house. "I must commend you on finding your way through the glamour. Messrs Weasley, and Longbottom as well as Miss Weasely required me to go out and fetch them."

"Luna figured it out?"

"Miss Lovegood had no trouble penetrating the glamour. But that doesn't surprise me," Lugh said.

Before Hermione could inquire further, Harry's voice shouted, "Hermione!" Then rising, he crossed the room and pulled her into a tight hug. "I've missed you."

"Me too," she replied returning the hug and was surprised at how good it felt.

"We were just discussing the letters we got from school," Harry said.

"Harry knows something, but he's not telling us." Ron's voice had an accusatory tone to it.

"I didn't say that, Ron. I said I wanted to wait until we were all here before I said anything. I don't like having to repeat things."

"Fair point," Neville said.

"So, did you get the same letter?" Ron demanded.

"Wait a moment, Ron." Harry said holding Hermione at arm's length as he seemed to study her. Evidently liking what he found, he said "You are looking good. Was your trip difficult?"

Hermione smiled at his improved manners and said, "Thank you. No, it wasn't difficult. It took me a few moments to discover the entrance to this place." She looked around at the formal library, stacked two stories high with books and journals. The large study table, and the comfortable chairs, desks and low table all spoke of wealth, class, and maybe just a bit of bachelorhood. There were few feminine aspects to the room. "This is wonderful, Harry. You live here now?"

Harry smiled and nodded vigorously. "I do. And you and Ginny don't have to share a room. Neither do Ron, and Neville and I."

Hermione grinned and said, "I think you might be a bit house-proud."

Harry shrugged and said, "I guess I am. I never in my wildest dreams thought anything like this could happen."

"Can we get back to the owls?" Ron asked. Hermione thought he sounded just a bit sharp, and maybe bitter.

Harry directed her to one of the comfortable chairs in front of a low table where a tray of snacks and drinks sat. "Lugh had the kitchen prepare regular food while you were here."

"Regular food?" Ron asked.

Luna took some crisps and sipped her butter beer and said, "Yes. I would say that Harry now eats most meals of fae food."

Harry nodded and said, "I do, Luna. And I feel so much better for it."

"It shows," Neville commented. "Although I'm not sure how you're going to deal with regular food when we get to Hogwarts."

"Regular food is good too. I've lived on it for years," Harry said.

"What's different about fae food? Why can't we have any?" Ron demanded.

"Fae food has unexpected side effects on mortals, Ron," Luna said. "You might eat an apple and wake a hundred years later, an old man, naked and dancing in the moonlight. That happened to my great great great uncle Abernathy, you know. He ate a strawberry given to him by a fairy."

Ron's eyes grew big. "I think I'll pass."

"About the owls," Ginny said. "What's going on? All of my classes and teachers have changed. McGonagall isn't teaching transfigurations. Who is Slughorn? What is the Alchemy Department, and why am I taking muggle studies? I have no interest in how muggles live." Then realizing to whom she was speaking, she quickly added, "No offense meant."

"And what's this about muggle-born students being forced to take a class called, "Living in the Wizarding World?"

Harry took a deep breath and said, "There's a movement in the Ministry to replace the politically motivated governors with ones whose only concern is the education of the students. They've revamped the whole school to bring it up to ICW standards. Evidently Madam Maxim and High Master Karkov were not impressed with Hogwarts during the Triwizarding Contest and wrote letters to the ICW. Most of the new professors are coming from outside of Britain."

"I don't like it," Ron said darkly.

"It sounds like a good idea to me," Hermione told him. "Politically driven teachers have been half our problems. This makes Hogwarts more like a real school, and less like a throwback to the medieval period. It says here that they will be using the latest in muggle teaching models."

"What can muggles teach us?" Ron demanded.

"Manners for one," Neville said uncharacteristically coldly. "You're sitting here with two muggle-born witches who with a little help from their friends are more than capable of learning and keeping up with the wizarding world. Can you say you could do the same in their world?" It was one of the most confident things she'd ever heard the quiet boy say.

"Neville has a point," Luna said. "Did you know the muggles have been to the moon and back?"

"Nobody's been to the moon!" Ron protested.

"The muggles have," Harry said. "The Americans did it over twenty-five years ago. They have weapons that can instantly destroy London and everyone in it with one blast. They can communicate instantly across the world. They are quickly leaving the wizarding world behind. I love your dad dearly, but even though he specializes in muggle devices, he had trouble navigating a simple turnstile at the train station in London."

"What's that got to do with anything happening at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked.

"Don't you see? These new governors are trying to make Hogwarts a better school. They're trying to make us better people, better wizards, and give us more chances to survive in the world." He looked over to Hermione and then back to Ginny before asking, "How many muggle-borns are able to rise very high in the wizarding world?"

Ginny shook her head and said, "Not many. Even Dad says that they get passed over for promotion at the ministry, and a lot of shops won't hire them."

"Exactly," Harry said. "And I hate to say this, but after seven years at Hogwarts, we don't have the background to make it in the muggle world either. We haven't had grammar, physics, biology, economics, history, rhetoric, and we don't have a school record we can take to university. Hogwarts is really a lose/lose proposition for all but the most talented muggle-borns."

"So we all get stuck with classes in these subjects?" Ron demanded. "How's that fair?"

"A wise muggle once said, 'with great power comes great responsibility," another voice said from the door. Hermione and the others looked up to see Harry's cousin, Hunter standing in there, a tray of muggle foods in his hands. "I thought you would like to try some muggle foods."

"Please don't take this question wrong, but is it appropriate for a Prince of the Realm to be carrying a serving tray of food?" Luna asked.

The man smiled and brought over the tray and set it on the table. Then raising a conspiratorial finger to his lips, he said, "Shh. If you don't tell my mother, I won't."

"You're secret is safe with us," Neville said with a grin and then quickly added, "And thank you."

"What are these?" Ron asked looking at the tray of crisps, soda, and the two large boxes of pizza, tacos, and burgers. All of which were from famous brand names."

"I don't think I could eat all of this in one sitting," Luna said.

"Don't worry," Lugh put a preservation charm on it. The Coke will stay cold, the pizza, burgers, and fries remain hot, and it shouldn't spoil."

"You are spoiling me, Hunter," Harry said with a smile.

"You've earned it Harry. You've been working very hard. You deserve a little time off with your friends."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got several meetings, and I'm expecting a guest."

"A guest?" Harry asked.

"A friend from America. He's asked to study the merfolk in the Black Lake."

"Whatever for?" Ron asked.

Hunter stopped and smiled, revealing the sharp vampire-like fangs. "Because like me, he's very long-lived and has a curious mind. He's a scholar, a warrior, and an adventurer. He's also a professor of marine biology at Miami University."

"Is he fae?" Ginny asked.

Hunter smiled and said, "No, Miss Weasley. He's something far different from anyone in this room."

"Isn't he afraid of You-Know-Who?" Ron asked.

"No, I don't know who," Daire replied.

"You know, the Dark Lord." Ron's tone was insulting.

Hunter shook his head and said, "No. Although Sean isn't a mage, it is Voldemort who should fear him. Voldemort is after all, only mortal." He then turned and left the room in stunned silence.

"That was rude, Ron," Hermione said.

"What?"

"Questioning his friend. Prince Hunter has done a lot for Harry, and you seem to go out of your way to be insulting." She looked at the spread of food the man had brought them. "And he just personally brought you a treat like you are unlikely to ever try otherwise."

"What are these?" Luna asked picking at the warm fries. Hermione thought it was appropriate that the man brought them food from a fast food chain with royalty in its name.

"Those are chips," Hermione said. "Sliced potatoes, deep fried. They're terribly bad for you, but sinfully good."

Luna tasted one and then smiled hugely. "Quite good!"

They all began to dig into the food with Harry and Hermione enjoying being able to introduce their friends to muggle food. It was a unique experience that she rather enjoyed.

About half an hour later, Prince Daire appeared at the door again and asked to speak to Hermione and Harry in the other room.

Excusing themselves, they followed him into a parlor-like room that was again decorated in a style befitting an Edwardian gentleman. He frowned and closed the door. "I'm sorry for calling you away from your friends. I just had a couple issues I needed to discuss with you before I left. One of them is in regards to your friend, Miss Lovegood."

"What?" Harry asked.

Hunter frowned and asked, "Does the young lady seem a bit off to you? I mean does she seem to have her head in the clouds half the time, and at others talk about seeing creatures that nobody else can see?"

She and Harry looked at each other and then back to Prince Hunter and Hermione said, "That's a very good description of Luna."

"I thought so," Hunter said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she was a fosterling. Seeing as that's not likely, perhaps the offspring of one?"

"A fosterling?" Hermione asked.

"When a mortal child is taken into fairy to be raised, upon their return, they are changed. The change can be at a genetic level. They can see into fairy and communicate with its denizens. Your friend seems to have that sight. According to Lugh, when she arrived at the drive, she looked around, smiled and then skipped across the bridge taking time to stop and speak to Garvin the troll who lives under the bridge, and then walked right up to the door. She can see the world as it truly is."

"Could that be what the nargles and wrackspurts are?" Hermione asked. "Could she be seeing into another reality, and not knowing the names of what she sees, she's giving them names from her childhood?"

"Very possibly," Prince Hunter said. "Lugh tells me that that the sprites and pookas in fairy are rather fond of her. They just can't figure out why she doesn't play with them when they steal her things."

"This explains so much!" Harry said with a grin.

Hermione laughed and said, "Yes it does. Do you think her mother might have been the fosterling? Nobody knows much about Pandora Lovegood before she married Xenophillus."

"Might be," Harry said. "Maybe we need to talk to her."

Hermione shook her head and said, "Not with Ron and Ginny here."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Hermione frowned and said, "That's a discussion that we need to have alone." She looked at Harry's cousin and said, "I meant no offense, Your Highness. It's just some things are best kept between friends."

The man smiled and said, "I understand completely." He sighed and added, "As to the the othe issue." He reached for a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table and handed it to Harry. "Mission accomplished."

Harry opened the paper and smiled widely. Hermione stepped around next to him and read the headline: _**Lucius Malfoy Sacrifices Limb To Turn State's Evidence. Renounces The Dark Lord. Wife Narcissa, and Son Draco Are In Hiding.**_ There was a picture of a dead arm and hand twitching on a table just under the headline.

"The Prophet is admitting Voldemort is back?" Harry asked.

"It's kind of difficult now, not to," Daire replied. "I think I'm about to become very busy."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "What do the fae have to do with the war with the Dark Lord?"

"Nothing," Daire replied. "But as for me, he killed my aunt, and wants to kill my cousin. I take that kind of thing personally."

* * *

"Avada Kedavra!" the sound of the spell going off sent chills down Tonk's spine as bright green light splashed across something in front of her.

Looking down, she realized that she should be dead. Nobody survives a killing curse, well one person does, but she wasn't Harry Potter. Yet, here she stood, the light playing across a fading blue shield that appeared out of nowhere.

"Don't stand there like an idiot! Take cover!" the voice of a witch she didn't recognize yelled at her.

Coming to her senses, Tonks dove behind a cart just in time to avoid a stunning curse aimed where she had stood just seconds before. Shaking her head, she took stock of the situation. Three death eaters had just crashed through the front windows of Olivander's. With the exception of Tonks and the mysterious witch across the street from her, everyone else immediately ran. Smart of them, if you asked Tonks.

They had Tonks dead to rights, her wand holsters and standing in the street staring like a first year rookie. Only the strange spell conjured by the witch had saved her. Looking across the street, she realized she could make out little of the witch's appearance. She was short with raven hair, and was dressed in a strange leather like armor made up of plates of dust blue and grey. A long dark cloak hung from her back, its hood up. A pair of metal bracers made up of ribbons of golden metal wove up her forearms, studded by precious gems. What was most remarkable was that instead of a wand, she had a long gleaming sword in each hand.

"Get ready!" the witch hissed at her. When they come out, do what you can to protect the shopkeeper! I'm going to engage the hostiles!" The witch spoke like an American—an American who was accustomed and trained in team combat.

Tonks nodded her head as two death eaters came crashing out the front door, poor Garrick Olivander struggling between them. "Now!" the witch shouted.

Much to everyone's surprise, the witch stood and shouted, "Hey uglies! Boyevoy!" Then she hurled one of her swords at the death eaters. Withdrawing her hand from the throw, she gestured toward Tonks, and Garrick ripped from the grasp of the death eaters and was hurled in her direction.

The flying blade hit its mark, catching one of the death eaters in the chest. He screamed once and collapsed to the ground, grasping at the blade now embedded in his body. Tonks shook wondered at the sheer strength it took to pull that off as she dove once again, this time to catch poor Garrick.

The other death eater spun on the witch and wordlessly flung a spell at her. She wasn't there, and the spell hit an abandoned cart, blasting it through the window of the shop behind it. Suddenly the witch appeared behind the death eater and asked, "Isn't that sheet the wrong color?" Then, with a flourish worthy of Gilderoy Lockheart, she leapt up and ripped the hood and mask from his face, hurling him backward into the bricks of the wand shop. He hit the wall with so much force, that the whole building shook. It took a moment for Tonks to get a clear look at his face as he slid down the wall, smearing a trail of blood behind him. "Rabastan Lestrange!" Tonks shouted.

Quickly checking Garrick over, she found him to be scared out of his mind, but mostly unharmed. Stepping out from behind her cover, she watched as the witch held out her hand and the sword in the other death eater's chest removed itself and flew to it. "Mir," she said softly. Then looking around she smiled at Tonks. "You okay?"

"There was a third one," Tonks said looking around, her wand ready. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

The witch smiled over at her and said, "How's the old man?"

"Scared, but okay." Tonks looked around for the next attack.

"Any civilians hurt?" the witch asked.

"Not that I can tell," Tonks replied. Then she asked, "Civilians?"

"People frown on calling them crunchies," the witch said as she too scanned the street and the shop for more threats.

"Just who are you?" Tonks asked. "You sound like an American, and an auror!"

"A friend," the woman said.

"How did you know about this attack?"

"I didn't. I was in the street doing some shopping when these Klan wannabes attacked."

"Klan wannabes?" Tonks asked.

"Sorry. American hate group called the Ku Klux Klan. They wore robes and masks and pointed hats to scare poor blacks and Republicans during the Civil Rights movement."

Tonks shook her head and said, "Sorry. I'm still at a loss."

The witch said, "Don't worry about it. You secure the shopkeeper and the street, and I'll clear the building."

"Do you know how?" Tonks asked.

"I've done it a time or two," the witch smiled at her.

"You still didn't tell me your name."

"No, I didn't," she replied slipping into the building as Kingsley Shacklebolt and a small squad of aurors arrived on the scene.

"What happened?" the tall black man asked.

"These two and third attacked Olivander's. Tried to kidnap him. One of them tried to kill me but this strange witch shielded me. Then when they tried to escape, the stranger killed that one," she pointed to the death eater on the ground, blood pooling around him. Then she nearly knocked Lestrange through a brick wall.

"Who is that?" Shacklebolt asked the young auror checking out the body of the still masked death eater.

They young woman removed the facemask and said, "Rodolphus Lestrange. He's quite dead."

"What can you tell me about this witch?"

"She was dressed in some kind of magical combat armor, and had two swords. One of them seemed to act as her wand, the other, well, it looked like a mythical sword I read about at Hogwarts."

"What mythical sword?"

"The Kladenets."

"Never heard of it," Shacklebolt said.

"It's Russian and it's a dancing sword. It fights on its own. She spoke to it in Russian, at least twice."

"Where is she now?"

"She said she was going to clear the building."

Kingsley nodded to two of his aurors to check the shop. "Are you okay?"

Tonks nodded and said, "Yeah. But I wouldn't be if it wasn't for that weird witch. Rodolphus had me dead to rights. He cast the killing curse, but she shielded me."

"How?"

"Don't know. I've never seen that spell before. She didn't parry it, she created a shield, like the one around Hogwarts."

"She warded you in battle?" Kingsley asked in awe.

"Yeah," Tonks said. "And I never saw her wand, just her swords."

"I've never heard of a sword acting as a wand."

"Nor have I," Tonks replied. "What took you so long to get here?"

"Operation at Amelia Bone's place. We just barely got her out of her apartment before the Dark Lord showed up. He burned down the building, killing several muggles and aurors."

"Oh," Tonks said. "Is she alright?"

"As well as can be expected. We lost five aurors in that fight."

"Anybody I know?"

Kingsly nodded and said, "Yeah. Too many."

"We've lost five, Voldemort's lost seven. We can't keep trading people like this, Kingsley," she said. "We'll depopulate Britain of wizards and witches inside a decade."

"I know," Shacklebolt said. "I know."

Several minutes later, the aurors came out of the shop, one of them carrying something small in their hand, both staring at it in confusion. "Nobody in the shop, Mr. Shacklebolt. The place is a wreck. We did find this, though." He handed the head auror the object in his hand.

Tonks peered at it next to him. It was a small oval shaped stone with a flat back. Behind its curved surface, she could see the tiny form of a man pounding furiously at the inside. Looking closely she could make out the features of Agustus Rookwood. "What is it?"

Shacklebolt tossed the gem into the air once, caught it firmly and put it in his pocket. "Just like the other five attacks. I think your witch is responsible for stopping the Brockdale Bridge from collapsing, and the attack on the Quibbler. Whoever she is, I think she's on our side."

"What are those things?" Tonks asked nodding toward Shacklebolt's pocket.

"Best we can tell, they're a portable prison cell. The person inside it doesn't need to eat or drink or even sleep, but they're trapped in a small grey room with nothing else."

"What kind of magic is that?"

"Very powerful," Shacklebolt said. "And dangerous."

* * *

Returning from his "seminar" at the University of Exeter, where he'd spent a great deal of time studying the warded home where Harry Potter now resided, Albus was shocked at the changes in Hogwarts. The interior walls had all been scrubbed and polished to a high sheen. The wooden floors had been sanded, polished and a thick coat of some clear protective material had been applied. Bright tapestries, spelled to absorb sound were hanging on the walls. Even his podium had been cleaned of candle wax and polished like he'd never seen it.

The dorms had been stripped, polished and refurbished with new furniture, new curtains for the beds and windows, and tapestries hung to again absorb sound. New magically charged chandeliers had been hung, and a complete library of reference books on subjects both magical and muggle were added to the common rooms.

Slytherin had been moved from the dungeon, and Hufflepuff from near the kitchens, and both placed in the fully repaired towers opposite Gryffindor and Ravenclaw respectively. All the classrooms had been cleaned, all the plumbing repaired and the toilets and bathrooms freshly painted. Doors were secured, and walls that had been damaged by Umbridge's Inquisitors had been replaced. In short, decades of work, and hundreds of thousands of galleons worth of improvements had been added to the school. Even the faculty housing had been updated not only to accommodate the new teachers, but to improve the facilities for the established instructors as well. It was all bright and shiny. It was all new, and it felt like a gilded cage.

Most surprisingly he found Elder-Warlock Greengrass awaiting him along with several of the new governors. Most of them were from grey families at best, families that had sat out the last wizarding war, and were likely to sit out this one. There was a verse in the Bible about people who are neither hot nor cold, and Albus found himself thinking of it at this time.

"Ah Headmaster," Greengrass greeted him. "How was your trip to Exeter?"

"Enlightening," Albus told him. And if he were to be entirely honest about the situation, that was true. His school could use with an update of the teaching model, and the "experts" had made some valid points. "I'm looking forward to seeing how those models are incorporated into Hogwarts." Two could play at this game.

"Very good," Greengrass said. "I'm glad to hear it. I know my granddaughter, Daphne is looking forward to seeing what has been done here."

"Might I ask to what Hogwarts owes this particular visit, Scaravanger?" Albus asked politely.

"Ah, right. You have work to do to prepare for the students arrival next week. I understand. I will keep it short. Two things actually."

"The first being?" Albus asked.

"As you know, Minister Fudge has been asked to resign."

"And?"

"He's agreed," Scaravanger said. "We had three candidates to consider in his place."

"And who did you choose?" Albus asked. "You will have to excuse me, I've sort of been tied up with a muggle seminar." He hoped to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Yes, yes," Greengrass said. "I understand. I think you'll be pleased with our choice."

"Who?" Albus demanded.

"Amelia Bones," Greengrass replied.

Albus had to admit that he _was_. Amelia Bones was about the best choice possible. She was fair, and level headed, even if she wasn't a member of the Order, she was at least sympathetic. "Good choice, Scaravanger."

"You sound surprised," Greengrass replied.

"I am in that you were able to convince her. I understand that she was recently attacked by Voldemort's forces."

"She was. Only an anonymous tip let us get there in time. Still, we lost five aurors in the process," Greengrass replied.

"I'm looking forward to her level-headed leadership," Albus said.

"She's ready to make the announcement that the Dark Lord has returned and put the ministry on a proactive footing," Greengrass told her.

"That's good news," Albus aid surprised that he genuinely meant it. Then he asked, "And your other reason for coming?"

"Ah yes," the Elder-Warlock said with a smile as he stepped back to reveal one of the men with him. He was tall, well built, and had hair the color of straw. Unlike the others, he was wearing a muggle suit and jacket and carried with him a leather valise. Albus couldn't help but notice the small points to his ears that peeked from under his hair. "This is Professor Sean Matthews from the American Muggle University of Miami."

"Muggle?" Albus asked alarmed.

"The university is as you call it, Professor, a muggle one. I however, am not."

"You're a wizard then?"

"Not quite," he said. "I'm not exactly sure what I am, and there are some rather frustrating people who know that won't tell me, but I can assure you, I'm very well aware of magic, and other powers. My abilities just fall into another area," the young man said, offering his hand.

Albus looked at it, noticing the small webs at the base of his fingers. "I'm sure you do, Professor Matthews. How can I help you?"

"I would like your permission to study the merfolk in the Black Lake. I've made a study of merfolk all across the world, and would like the opportunity to study them, their culture, and their songs."

"You speak merish?"

The man nodded and said, "I do."

"You are aware that there is a giant squid that lives in the lake?" Albus asked.

"I'm aware. Another area of my interest would be how a creature adapted to life in the deepest ocean trenches fares in a freshwater lake in Scotland."

"And you are unafraid of these creatures?" Albus asked.

"I have a healthy respect for their power, Headmaster."

"I'm unsure," Albus told him. Then turning to Greengrass he asked, "What do you think, Scaravanger?"

"He comes with the highest recommendations from the Americans, Albus."

Albus took a deep breath and said, "Very well. But you will be responsible for your own safety, room and board, and you will not interfere with the students."

The man smiled and said, "I understand completely. I've taken a small house in Hogsmead from which to conduct my research. Thank you, Headmaster."

"You're welcome, Professor Matthews." Looking at the other governors, he said, "If there is nothing else, ladies and gentlemen?"

"I think that covers it," Greengrass said.

"In that case, I have a faculty orientation to conduct. Please excuse me." With that he left them and headed back into the castle.


	10. First Day of School

**AN/ I'm basing the size of the Hogwarts' student body on the estimations worked out by David Haber at the beyond Hogwarts website, and not Rowling's estimation of 1,000 students. We just don't see that many students in the books, or in the movies. And yes, the name of the DADA teacher is a play on the name of a famous vampire slayer character, and just a little bit of poking fun at her creator. After all, if he REALLY wanted to be edgy, he would not relaunch the series with a black female playing the part, he'd do it with a straight white male from the Deep South. THAT would be challenging stereotypes in Hollywood. As it is, he's just pandering and trying to virtue signal.**

* * *

Even with the new teachers for which she was responsible, even with the her extra duties as part of the Order of the Phoenix, even with the news of attacks on the wizarding community by the Dark Lord, and the Ministry finally admitting that he was back, Minerva McGonagall was more rested than she had felt in years. Hogwarts was once again becoming a school worthy of its name. She knew that Albus was having difficulty adjusting, not only to the radical changes in the school, but to his own battle plans for fighting the Dark Lord, but she for one was thrilled.

She'd sat in on the interviews and the orientation for the new teachers and was quite pleased with the new transfiguration teachers, a pretty little blonde woman from Iceland who had a real talent for making a lesson sing—sometimes literally. She loved the changes in her quarters, and in the dormitories. With the scrapping of the old bed-curtains the likelihood of a fire in the dorms had been reduced significantly, and she liked the way the common rooms had been refurbished to make both socialization and group studying easier. And she had to admit that the introduction of muggle pens and notebooks had its advantages too. Paper didn't hold the magic of spell work very well, but at the same time it was far less expensive and could be more easily stored. (She had a particular dislike of scrolls, much preferring the feeling of books.)

With a newfound sense of purpose and ease, she watched as the first years were conducted via boat to the castle—a job still carried out by Hagrid. There were fewer this year than in years before, but that was to be expected with so many families going into hiding. The mysterious witch who'd aided Tonks had appeared several more times, but there was only one of her, and the Dark Lord had many targets, even if he did have a quickly dwindling circle of death eaters. It would seem that this witch much preferred killing death eaters than sending them to Azkaban—something that both Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt wished to discuss with her, but were in no big hurry. As for the death eaters, they'd learned to fear the Russian word: Boyevoy, which meant, 'fight'.

As the first-years filed into the great hall, their faces looking nervous, she counted only thirty new students instead of the usual fifty or so. Even the ranks of the regular students had thinned out, and many faces were missing, most notably, that of young Draco Malfoy. Whatever Daire had arranged there, had crippled Voldemort's cash flow and the death eaters had taken to common thievery to meet their fiscal needs.

Professor Olafsdottir took the names of the children pronouncing them quite well with only a hint of a Nordic accent. She was quite impressed with the pretty young blonde's credentials. One by one, they separated nearly evenly into the four houses. It always surprised her that the hat was able to in one way or another find something to justify such an even distribution, and she briefly wondered if being under its influence, even briefly, caused those aspects of the student's personality to suddenly blossom. It was something to think about.

When the sorting was over, Albus stood and began his beginning of the year speech. "Welcome to our returning students and our new first-years, as well as one or two transfer students. In many ways, this year is a new school for all of our students, as you have surely noticed the recent changes to faculty, staff, schedules, and even the castle itself. As we move forward, our futures uncertain outside the walls of this school, we are also moving forward with our lives here at Hogwarts. Many of you will note a change in the regular school schedule and the classes both offered as electives as well as required for graduation. These are all based on the standards and practices implemented by the Board of Governors in order to see that each and every one of you graduate Hogwarts with the best possible education we can provide."

"We have several new faces at the faculty table this evening. Let me begin by introducing them to you. I'm sure you will come to know them much better as the year goes on. First, our new lower form potions master and biology teacher is ElizaThornton, recently of the Innisfree School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Ireland. The upper form and N.E.W.T. classes will be taught by Professor Horace Slughorn who has graciously agreed to come out of retirement." Both instructors stood and nodded their heads. Minerva got the impression that Slughorn might be actually a bit infatuated with the attractive younger woman. "Professor Snape has been promoted to head of the Department of Alchemy.

"In the lower form of transfigurations as well as grammar and literature is Professor Ingrid Olafsdottir. Although she is from Iceland, she comes here from our sister school to the North, Durmstrang. Teaching the upper form will be Professor Christopher Dumas who comes to us all the way from New Zealand." Again, the two instructors stood and smiled. Olafsdottir was a small woman with ice blond hair, and blue eyes, and Dumas was somewhat dark-skinned with a head of tight curly hair and a broad flat nose.

"This year we're pleased to welcome to the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, the renown monster hunter, Biff Winters. He will be covering all seven years in this subject, and we look forward to learning a great deal from him in these troubled times." Minerva knew that Winters was a shoe-horn candidate that Albus had put his foot down about. He stood and smiled slightly. He was a somewhat young man, probably in his late twenties, with dishwater blond hair, grey eyes, and a very fit and tone form. Rumor had it that he kept a silver dagger and a wooden stake on his person at all times.

And so the introductions went as all the new staff was made to feel as welcome as they could in this environment. Minerva sat back as it was announced that she would maintain her position as Deputy Headmistress, and as Head of House for Gryffindor. Slughorn was to be head of Slytherin, and Winters was taking over as head of house for Hufflepuff. When Albus was finished, he opened the feast, and the students began to talk animatedly among each other and devour the food that appeared on the table.

"So, what do you think, Minerva?" Fillius leaned over and asked her.

"About?" she said as she scanned her new students. Finding Weasley was quite easy. She just looked for the shock of red hair. From there, it wasn't hard to locate Potter, Longbottom, and Granger. They were sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table talking. Well Granger, Longbottom, and Potter were talking. Weasley was busy shoveling food into his mouth.

"How all of this is going to play out?"

"Actually, I'm rather pleased with it, Fillius. I like the improvements in the castle, I like the extra staff, and I like the fact that we're finally looking at how we teach. It's been a long time coming."

"I would have thought you'd resist this kind of change?"

"Not at all," she said. "Hogwarts is first and foremost a school, and we need to make sure we don't forget that."

"I agree," Fillius said quietly.

* * *

Harry was of two minds about the changes he'd seen at Hogwarts since his last trip here in July. He missed some of the old aspects of the school, but at the same time, he liked the fact that grey was no longer the dominant color of his life. Part of that he recognized as his budding appreciation for all things fae.

After the feast there had been time to catch up with his friends, and he caught himself studying Hermione very closely, the way her nose sloped up just slightly, the narrowness of her face, the beauty of her rich brown eyes, all combining to give her an elegant, and sophisticated appearance. He loved the way her small mouth formed a perfect bow, and some small part of his mind wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. _WOAH! Where did that come from?_ He shook his head out of the reverie he'd found himself in and realized that maybe his dreams of late had been telling him something.

Suddenly, the new improved Gryffindor common room became too small, too claustrophobic. He needed to clear his head, to think some things through. Dropping off his trunk in the room he shared with Ron and Neville, he slipped out of the dorm and up to the parapet of the Astronomy Tower.

Here, with the whole of the Milky Way spread out above him, and the reflection of the stars glittering like diamonds on the black velvet of the lake below, he felt his mind begin to settle again. Almost negligently, he cast a ball of soft blue fae-light on the area, and leaned out to watch the ripple of the waves on the lake, his mind relaxing further, draining away the tensions of the day, the fatigue from the long train ride, and the worries the coming war kept casting at his mind. With a little concentration, he realized that he could start to discern the difference between the reflected star light, and the lights of the merfolk village beneath the waves. He wondered how they made such light underwater; magic no doubt.

"You have the look of a man having deep thoughts," the voice of Professor Dumbledore brought him from his near-meditative state of mind.

Harry turned and smiled at the old warlock and said, "Not quite sir. I think I was almost in a trance state."

"I've never known you to be quite that contemplative, Harry."

"I've got a lot on my mind. It's quiet up here and I could feel my thoughts settle a bit."

"Would you like to discuss it?" It was an offer that Harry hadn't considered in the past.

"Have you ever suddenly realized that your feelings for a friend might go deeper than you thought? That you might have somehow crossed over from seeing them as a friend, to something else?"

The look on Dumbledore's face was one of surprise, and a bitter-sweet smile flowed across his face. "Once," he said. "It didn't end well."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories, sir."

Dumbledore's chuckle was sardonic, and just a bit self-deprecating. "You didn't. Your question just caught me off guard."

"Sorry, sir."

"Don't be. Sometimes I forget how much you've grown from the little boy who first came here five years ago. You're becoming a young man, with all that entails."

Harry nodded and asked, "What can I do for you, sir?"

With a nod, Dumbledore said, "I've been doing some research, Harry. And I believe I've discovered something about our foe."

"Oh?"

"Would you care to join me in my office? I have something to share with you."

Harry nodded and followed the old man down the tower, and into his office on the third floor. There he found a large shallow silver bowl floating above a table. Next to it was a glowing glass cabinet full of small vials, each one marked in a delicate, almost feminine script. "You of course remember the pensieve?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied with a nod.

Dumbledore took down a vial, and poured it into the bowl. "Of all the memories I've collected, this one is the most vexing." He smiled, "Would you care to take a look?"

Shrugging slightly, Harry moved toward the bowl. Glancing over to Dumbledore, who nodded in affirmation, he plunged his face into its silvery surface. And the memory began to form around him.

"A young Tom Riddle, near Harry, was talking with someone else in the room. Asking about old and dark magics by which a wizard could preserve his soul. But, like a poorly recorded video, the images kept twisting in and out, reshaping themselves. One moment the conversation made sense. Riddled asked about something that Harry could not quite ascertain, and then it would fade into shadow, and whoever had recorded the memory was acting in anger, demanding that Riddle get out. Then, it abruptly ended.

Harry pulled his face from the liquid and looked at the Professor. "I don't understand, Sir.

"This memory has been altered, by the person who gave it to me," the professor replied. "To understand what Tom has done, we need the unaltered one."

"I still don't understand. Who is it from?"

"Professor Slughorn," Dumbledore told him.

"Why would he change the memory?" Harry asked. "How would he change the memory?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "The human mind is a powerful thing. It's capable of convincing itself, at least in the waking hours, of nearly anything. As for why? Most likely shame or embarrassment."

"What do you want me to do?" Harry asked.

"Professor Slughorn collects people Harry. He cultivates friendships and relationships with famous and powerful people. And through those, he makes his life easier, manipulates events from behind the scene. Oh not for power so to speak, but for his own comfort. And he always gives as much as he gets, mainly by being a gateway for one person to meet another. I suspect that the only reason he has come to Hogwarts is the opportunity to collect what will be his crown jewel.  
"Who?"

"You, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "You, the chosen one, would be his crowning achievement."

"What do you want me to do?"

"To get close to him, get the original unaltered memory. Without it, we can go no further in our war against Voldemort."

Harry nodded and recognized it to be a sound plan. Nodding he said, "Should I let him?"

"Let him what?"

"Let him collect me."

"If necessary," Dumbledore replied.

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. But he also knew that Dumbledore didn't have an inkling about how much he'd changed over the summer. He didn't like being used as a potential weapon or as bait. "I see."

"You don't approve?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry couldn't help but think that he was a little late asking him for his approval. "I'm unsure, sir. Are you sure that this memory is absolutely necessary?"

"It is," Dumbledore said. "I fear that Tom Riddle has found a way to keep coming back from the dead. The only way we can be sure is get that memory."

Harry nodded. He had the distinct feeling that Dumbledore wasn't telling him everything, but he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, of wanting to confirm his fears. It was a caution that Harry could appreciate. "Okay. I'll try sir."

"Good boy," Dumbledore replied putting a fatherly hand on his shoulder.

"If you will excuse me," I think I'll turn in. First day of classes are tomorrow and I'm actually looking forward to my Introduction to Living in the Wizarding World class."

"Go ahead," the headmaster said.

Harry returned to the dorm where Hermione was waiting on him in the common room. "Ron was wondering where you were."

Harry smiled and asked, "But you're the one who waited up in the common room?"

"Well, they wouldn't let me wait in your room," she said. Then as if realizing what she'd said, she looked down and blushed, quickly adding, "I mean..."

"It's okay. I was out clearing my head and then Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak to me."

"I thought it might be something like that," she said. "Look, Harry..., about this thing that has happened to you."

"Yes?" Harry asked sitting on the sofa next to her.

She took his hand and said, "I just want you to know that I don't think it changes anything between us, I mean our friendship. I'm still here for you."

Harry patted her hand, not sure how to tell her how much that meant to him. "Thank you. I think I needed to hear that."

"I mean it Harry. I won't turn my back on you just because of what you've become."

"Has someone suggested that you should?" Harry asked.

She shook her head and said, "No. It's just some people don't know how to take it. How to take you. You were The-Boy-Who-Lived. Now the Daily Prophet is calling you The Chosen One. The Quibbler calls you the Fae Lord." She smiled and added, "To me, you're just my best friend, Harry."

"Thank you, Hermione. And I guess I am all those things. None of them I have any control over. Well, okay, I could have rejected my birthright, I guess. But why should I?"

"You shouldn't Harry!" she said rather emphatically.

"I'm glad you agree with me. It's been an adjustment. And to be honest, I've worked my arse off this summer. Coming back to school actually feels like a break."

She laughed and said, "You'll do fine."

He nodded. "I know. It's just I've gotten used to learning with Hunter's teaching style, and now I've got to go back to the Hogwarts style."

"I get the feeling that the Hogwarts style is going to change."

"I know, but it's still not like having the knowledge imparted directly into my mind and then the use of it drilled into me until every part of me, body, mind, and soul are exhausted."

"What's he like?" Hermione asked changing the subject slightly.

"Who?"

"Your cousin," she said.

"Elegant, sophisticated, and down to earth all at the same time. He's a ball of contradictions. He doesn't act like the nobles we see on television, at least when we're alone. He's teaching me the manners I need to function like that, but for the most part, he's just Hunter." He frowned and added, "Or I should say, xe's Hunter."

"Xe?"

"Long story. Let's just say that my cousin is more than one thing at a time, and that took me a while to get used to." He paused remembering their conversation from several weeks ago. "You told me that you wanted to wait to talk to Luna about her background without Ron and Ginny."

"Yeah," she said. "I don't think the Weaselys, at least not Ron and Ginny are taking what has happened to you very well. They seem to dislike the fae as much as they do the Malfoys."

"The Malfoys tried to stop the Massacre of the Bells, or so my cousin tells me. Could that be it?"

"I don't know. Fred and George are likely to use it to take the Mickey out of you when you need it, but I don't think they're likely to give you grief over it." She paused a moment, and then added, "And there's something else."

"What?"

"Well, I was staying at the Burrow just before we came back to school. I noticed something in Mrs. Weasley's kitchen. Something I wasn't sure about."

"What?" he asked.

"She had two boxes in the back of the cupboard. I was looking for a pot to help with dinner and saw it. One had your name on it, and one had Ginny's. I took a peek inside." She blushed at that. "There were most of the ingredients for love potions in them. They just needed something intimate from each of you."

Harry sat back and gazed long and hard at Hermione. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing. I'm just telling you what I saw. I'll leave any interpretation of it up to you."

"That's something to think about," Harry said.

"Harry, just be careful."

"I will," he told her standing and yawning. "Now if you'll excuse me. I think I'm going to bed."

She smiled and stood too. "I think I'll head to my own bed too."

As they parted, and headed toward different doors, Harry noticed how sweetly she was smiling and wondered again what it would be like to kiss her.


	11. A Different Sort of Bravery

**AN/ I have unexpected visitors today, so I didn't get to write as much as usual. Here's a short chapter.**

Hunter settled in to a chair at the Three Broomsticks across from a very old and dear friend. Sean was grinning hugely as he perused through his electronic pad, a device that had been bespelled to be nearly invulnerable and to work even in the magical world. Shaking his head, he mumbled, "There are times I envy Bree her super speed. I don't envy her, the boredom, but there is just only so much I can get done in a day."

"Hello, Sean."

"Hiya, Hunter," he said looking up. Then with a double take that sent his soft blond hair shaking side to side, he said, "Interesting form you've chosen."

Hunter smiled and said, "It's less confusing this way. The wizards expect strange from the fae, and some even recognized daeoni, but I don't think they're quite ready to handle me in my natural form. How're the others?"

"Let's see, Balyn is still complaining that his students don't know how to write a complete sentence, Troy has an audition with some performer who thinks she's a singer. To be honest, she's little more than a pole dancer. Heather is attempting a hostile take over of Virgin Atlantic, Bree is working on adapting Daniel's technology, and Morgan is doing genetic research after that incident in the desert." Then looking around, "By the way, exactly what year is it?"

"Ninety-six."

"An era we both skipped."

"So it would seem. As my mother is wont to say, time travel is a pain in the backside."

"I've been reading the wizarding papers. You've been busy."

"It gives me something to do. There's a dark wizard out to kill my cousin. I intend to soften him up a little before I let him get anywhere near Harry."

"Why not just deal with it yourself, and be done with it?"

"Because he killed Harry's parents. I think I owe Harry that much."

Sean nodded and said, "Remember what your dads taught us. Don't get so caught up in revenge that you lose sight of what's important."

"I won't. What can you tell me about the Black Lake? Is there a portal there?"

"There is, and it's stable."

"What are the chances of it causing problems like the ones Alden created?"

"You'd have to ask Morgan about that. But since it doesn't cross realities, or even time, I think it's pretty harmless. The giant squid uses it to access the deep oceans to feed. The other end is out the in the middle of the North Atlantic."

"A giant squid adapted to freshwater?"

Sean laughed and said, "I've learned that when it comes to magic, that nearly anything is possible. This one is also quite intelligent and has a wicked sense of humor."

"You are a genuine treasure, you know that Sean? If you weren't married to five of my closest friends, I'd snatch you up myself."

"Don't go there," the tall man teased.

"Don't worry. I'm perfectly happy with the way things are," Hunter replied. It was good to have friends to tease and be teased back. "What can you tell me about the merfolk?"

"An isolated tribe. They seem to be an amalgam of both the Greek and Irish branches." The blond smiled broadly and added, "More importantly, there's a rather strange settlement of what at first I thought were nixies on the side opposite the castle, near Hogsmead. Turns out they're something entirely different."

"What?" Hunter asked.

"Well, if I didn't miss my guess, I'd say about half of them are thenali. They're the same size I am in my other form. They've got the florescent hair, and webbed fingers like I do. The other however, are more your height, have finned ears and webbed fingers and speak a rather interesting dialect of Daeoni."

"You're telling me you've found a tribe of Sea Tyri?" Hunter asked excitedly.

Sean shrugged and said, "I don't know, but I think so."

"If that's true, you realize what that means?" Hunter asked.

"Not particularly. I'm a scientist and a fisherman at heart. I'm more interested in their building techniques than I am in political ramifications."

Hunter smiled and said, "Let's just say that you would never catch grief from another of my father's people over your interest in such mundane things as how to shape coral again."

"I'm never going to live that down, am I? And it was Queen Alamora's people that gave me grief, not your father's people. He thought it was beneath the dignity of a warrior." Then leaning back, he asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Hunter smiled said, "Can you stick around for a while?"

"I'm on sabbatical, and the colony I told you about is more than willing to let me study their stonecrafting techniques. Balyn and Morgan are stopping by occasionally so it's all good. We're thinking of visiting London later on." He grinned and said, "Which by the way, your restraint is to be commended. The city is still standing."

Hunter chuckled and said, "I didn't live through the Massacre of the Bells, and don't have quite the same prejudices toward the English as my parents."

"Well, we're going on a tour of the Scottish Highlands later in the week. Autumn here is quite beautiful. And the fish are biting."

"You and your fishing," Hunter teased him.

"It kept me sane as a boy."

Hunter nodded and said, "I think I understand."

"You want me to keep an eye on the young man?"

"If you don't mind," Hunter said.

"No problem. Between him and the nixies, I'm not going to get bored."

"Thought you said they were Sea Tyri and Thenali?"

"I'm referring to them as nixies until I get a confirmation from your people. Could you pass on the request for me, please?"

"Be glad to," Hunter replied. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Sean said with a smile. "Can you introduce these people to Dr. Pepper? Butterbeer is nice and all, but I miss my Dr. Pepper."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Hunter?" Sean asked seriously.

"Yes?"

"These people really don't have any idea of who or what you are, do they?"

Hunter shrugged and said, "I don't know. I don't think so. And I'd rather keep it that way. Them finding out that I'm the scion of both the Morrigan and Poseidon would throw them into a tizzy. Of course, you're not really any better."

"Who me? I'm just a scientist from the University of Miami with an interest in all things aquatic."

"You're a primal vessel, Sean. We both know the word that keeps getting tossed around about you and your family."

"Godling," Sean said bitterly. "Funny, I don't feel all that divine."

"I know at least two people who've described you as divine."

Sean blushed a deep red. "Let's not go there."

Hunter smiled and nodded. Sean had always been sensitive about his relationship with the rest of his team, and was very protective of the "reputations" of Bree, Heather, and especially Morgan. "Very well, my friend. And thanks for your help."

"You're welcome. What do you want me to do if there's an actual attack on the school, and how likely is that?"

"I'm not sure. This Voldemort is growing desperate. He might launch such an attack, but I doubt it. As for what to do, do whatever it takes to protect the children."

"Got it." Sean said. "Drain the lake and drown the attackers."

"Sean..." Hunter warned.

"Just an option, Hunter," Sean teased. "Just an option."

"The merfolk, the giant squid, and the nixies wouldn't appreciate you draining the lake."

"True."

 **Harry Potter and the Fae Prince. Harry Potter and the Fae Prince.**

"Harry, wait up!" Ron called as Harry made his way down the stairs toward the main hall. "Where'd you go last night?"

"Up to the astronomy tower, and then to Dumbledore's office. He wanted to show me something."

"What?"

"I'll tell you about it later," Harry said looking around. "Too many people I'd rather not hear about it around."

Ron nodded and said, "I understand."

"What's your first class?"

"Living in the Wizarding World," Harry said.

"Why the hell did you take that? I mean you've been here for five years now."

"Ron, there's still a lot of things I don't know. Remember what I said about your dad and the turnstile?"

Ron frowned and said, "Yeah... that as a git thing to say by the way."

"Well, here's another one. I'm in the same boat when it comes to living in the wizarding world. I can sort of navigate my way, but I've made a lot of mistakes because I didn't understand things. My handling of Malfoy could have been better."

"You've handled Malfoy just fine," Ron said. "Stupid git that he is."

Harry shook his head as they pounded down the stairs and said, "No. I made an enemy out of someone who could have at least remained neutral if not a friend. I didn't know that that natty old boot was a portkey, and half the time I get into trouble for doing things I didn't know wasn't allowed in the wizarding world. They say that ignorance of the law is no excuse, so since I don't have an excuse, I need to fix the problem. Hopefully, this class will do that."

"Where's the fun Harry Potter that's my best mate?" Ron asked. Harry was unsure if he was serious or not.

"I'm still here, Ron," Harry said. "But I'm tired of being in the dark. I'm tired of having to have things explained to me, and I'm tired of other people making decisions for me. We aren't boys anymore. We may not be adults yet, but we aren't kids either."

Entering the Great Hall, they found Hermione, Neville, and Luna already there. Sitting down, he grabbed a plate of food and began to eat. He found it to be filling, if somewhat bland in taste. He made a mental note to himself to see if maybe Lugh would be willing to arrange for a few care-packages from the kitchens at Muriashome. He'd have to be careful that none of the other students ate any of it, but at least it would have some taste to it.

Forcing himself to finish the food, he smiled over at Hermione and said, "Sorry for keeping you up worrying last night."

She blushed and said, "No problem."

Then, much to everyone's surprise, Daphne Greengrass sat down next to Ron. "Hello Harry, do you mind if I join you?"

"Slytherin table is over there," Ron said between bites of sausage.

"Ron!" Hermione chastised him. "That's rude!"

"Please," Harry said. "I believe you know everyone here."

"I do," she said shooting daggers from her eyes at Ron.

"Please thank your grandfather for the books he sent me. They've been very helpful."

"Glad to hear it," she said. Then looking at Ron, she added, "It may be the case as Hagrid has said that every dark wizard in Britain's history has come out of Slytherin, although I think that's an exaggeration, but every Slytherin isn't a dark wizard. There's a lot we could teach you, Weasely."

"I'm sure," the redhead said eyeing her up and down.

"Excuse me," Harry said standing with his plate of bland food. He'd had enough of this. "I can have friends from other houses. I think I'm going to sit at that empty table over there. Anybody who wants to eat without sniping at each other is welcome to join me." With that, he crossed the room to an empty table that was usually reserved as overflow. Hermione, Neville, Luna, Daphne, and much to his surprise, Collin Creevy got up and joined him.

"What did I say?" Ron asked in shock.

"How you managed to stuff your foot in your mouth alongside your breakfast, I'll never know," Hermione told him as she got up to leave.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, little brother, that you have a knack for being a git, "Fred said as he and George sat down beside him.

"Now, we're going to sit here with you while you figure out just how big a git you are."

"At least for today. But after today, you're on your own."

Harry turned back to the others and said, "I'm sorry about that. But to be honest, I'm sort of sick of this pitting one house against another. From what I've been reading, that's not something the Founders ever intended. Houses were supposed to be in friendly competition, not a life-long hatred of each other."

Daphne laughed and said, "That's a Gryffindor for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Neville asked.

Daphne held up her hand in surrender and said, "Just that what he said is the perfect example of being a Gryffindor."

"I think you're right, Daphne," Luna said. "It was a very brave thing to say, and to do."

"Exactly," Daphne replied winking at the other blonde.

"Come to think of it, you both are right," Neville said leaning back. "I'm proud of you Harry."

"What about you, Collin?" Hermione asked. "What do you think?"

"I think I'd rather sit at a mixed table than have Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan give me another noogie."

"Noogie?" Daphne asked.

"They think it's cute because I'm so small" Colin said.

"You might be small, Collin, but you've got a big heart," Neville told him.

"Thanks Neville."


	12. Classes, Skills, and Combat

Professor Blisterguard's _Living in the Wizarding World_ class proved to be something of a let down on the first day. Most of it was a review of basic stuff that Harry had figured out over the last few years on his own and with the help of his friends. However, going through the text book's table of contents suggested that there was a lot he didn't know, so he wasn't quite ready to give up on it yet. He was especially looking forward to chapters on _Head of Family, Birthrights and Responsibilities, Oaths and Obligations;_ _What Constitutes a Binding Magical Contract;_ (a class he could have used several times over the last few years), and _Wizarding Etiquette_.

As they were exiting the classroom and heading toward their double N.E.W.T. Potions class, Hermione leaned in next to him and asked, "So, what did you think?" _Was that a hint of vanilla?_ he found himself wondering. It was definitely having an unexpected effect on him.

"About?" he asked forcing his mind back onto the subject at hand.

"How useful this class is going to be?" She said. "I mean, I could have used it back four years ago, but everything we covered today is stuff I already figured out."

"Me too," he replied. "But I think that it's going to be useful the further we get into it. That is if the book is any indication."

She nodded and said, "Yeah, me too." Then, noting the potions book in his hand, she said, "I thought you hated potions?"

"Well, Snape wouldn't take a student with less than an Outstanding in his N.E.W.T. class, but Professor Slughorn only requires an Exceeds Expectation. Hunter thinks it's a valuable class, so I decided to give it a shot." Then pausing to make sure nobody else could listen, he added, "And besides Dumbledore wants me to take it."

"This is about last night, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded and said, "Yeah. We'll talk more when we can get some time alone. I need to talk to Ron about it too, but I don't think we all have a free period together until this afternoon.

Finally reaching the new potions lab, they entered to find a rather eclectic group of a dozen or so,students from across the houses. "Ah, Mister Potter, and Miss Granger. Glad to have you. Come on in, let's get started."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said as he and Hermione grabbed a lab table.

"On your table, you'll find this year's lab text. I believe that the last time the old textbook from this class was changed, Professor Snape was here—as a student." A low chuckle went through the classroom. "I've gone through this one rather carefully, and am very impressed. You'll find the practicals much more detailed with several alternate methods that are approved of by the International Potion Masters Guild."

"Now, before we begin, let's talk about the three basic potions you are going to have to master for this class. There will be others of course, but there are three that are required to pass this class." He walked over to a small cask and opened it. Taking out a vial, he held it up and said, "This one caused some of you difficulty last year I believe. Does anyone know what it is?"

Neville raised his hand and Slughorn said, "Mr. Longbottom, Professor Sprout tells me you're quite the whiz in herbology. Can you tell me what this one is?"

"Veritaserum, sir."

"Very good, Mr. Longbottom. Five points for Gryffindor, I believe."

Then taking out another vial, he held it up and asked, "And this one?"

Daphne Greengrass raised her hand, blushing slightly. "Miss Greengrass?"

"Polyjuice, sir."

"Another potion that has caused havoc here at Hogwarts. Very good, Miss Greengrass. Five points to Slytherin."

Harry clapped slightly, catching several other students by surprise. Then he was quickly joined by Neville and Hermione, and the whole class in what could be best described as a golf clap. Even Professor Slughorn gave him a slightly surprised look. The older professor moved over to a small gold pot bubbling over a fire. "This is probably the most dangerous potion you can brew." He took the lid from the pot and wisps of smoke snaked into the air changing color in the lowered light of the classroom. "Can anybody identify it?" Only Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Amortentia," Hermione replied. "It's the most powerful love potion ever brewed. It smells differently to each person, but always something pleasant and attractive." Her voice became light and detached as she lost herself in whatever she was feeling. "For example I smell freshly mown grass, parchment, and, ... cheeseburgers." She glanced in Harry's direction and blushed.

"Well, I'm not sure what that last one is," the professor said as Hermione stepped back, her eyes still focused on the small gold pot only stopping when she backed into Harry.

"Very good, Miss Granger. Another five points to Gryffindor." Then turning to the rest of the class he continued, "Amortentia cannot make you actually fall in love, but it can make you obsessed and cause extreme infatuation. It is so powerful that the goblins have been petitioning the ministry for years to ban it. They see it as a form of bloodline theft when children are produced because of it. He then placed the lid on the small cauldron.

Harry noticed that immediately, the temperature in the room seemed to drop to a tolerable level, and he was left with only the odor of Hermione's hair, and that was having a notable effect on him. Like the other male students in the room, he suddenly found a reason to close the front of his robe as Slughorn moved to a final vial of gold-like liquid. "And this," he said triumphantly. "This, is Felix Felicis. Some people call it liquid luck. One dose of this and for the next twelve hours, all your endeavors will come to fruition. It's extremely difficult to brew and if you get one little thing wrong, it can have disastrous results. It's banned in all organized competitions. I'm going to make this today's prize for the student who can brew a perfect Draught of Living Death." He smiled and said, "Now mind you, that's an extremely difficult potion to make, and in all my years of teaching only one student has ever won this prize. Now grab a table, and let's get started."

Harry and Hermione chose two adjoining tables and opened their books to begin. Slughorn had been right. The new texts were much more clear in their directions, and out to the side of each direction were several alternate methods that were Guild-approved. First he read the directions completely, and then gathered his needed ingredients, as Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye.

Slowly, he began to follow the directions in the text, watching the moving hands in the pictures as they demonstrated the correct method of carrying out each action. It was at this point, the knowledge his cousin had been teaching him about fae magic, and what he was learning here began to click and form a coherent whole. The instructions started to become more clear, his understanding of why something is done a particular way started to merge with why specific ingredients and their interactions with magic fell together in his mind.

Hermione watched in near awe as with natural confidence, Harry began to prepare his ingredients. Even his sword play with Hunter affected his cutting and crushing of the components. Within five minutes, he was well on his way to completing the assignment. "I've never seen you like this, Harry," Hermione said under her breath.

"How?" Harry asked.

"So confident in potions," she said.

Harry just shrugged and said, "Finally, it's all starting to make sense. It's like the pieces that had been jumbled up in my head are falling into place, making a complete picture of what to do."

She smiled and said, "Good to hear."

When the class was over, Professor Slughorn went around the room testing each potion. He seemed to be somewhat surprised by what he found. "I say, the quality of a first potion has drastically improved since I was last teaching this course."

"I think it's the new textbooks, Professor," Miss Greengrass said. "This one does a much better job explaining things than our old one."

The professor nodded as he came to Harry's potion last. His face lit up in surprise as he clasped Harry on the shoulder and said, "Well done, Harry! That is perfect! I dare say that one drop of that potion would kill everyone in this room."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said. "I've been studying all summer."

Slughorn smiled at him and said, "It's paid off." Pulling the prize potion from his waistcoat pocket, he handed it to Harry and said, "As promised, the prize to our winner!"

Taking the potion, Harry nodded and said, "Thank you, sir." He put the potion in his pocket, beaming under the rare praise for this class. Next to him, Hermione playfully bumped his shoulder with hers and grinned hugely.

Cleanup turned out to be storing the potions that were brewed correctly, on which Slughorn placed his Master's Seal certifying that they were brewed under the supervision of a Potions Master. Those that weren't up to standards had to be disposed of carefully, and took much longer than anyone expected. "Can't have this stuff accidentally contaminating anything," Professor Slughorn chuckled softly. "Princes with the Wiggenweld potion are a bit hard to come by these days." He stopped and looked at Harry, chuckled and mumbled something under his breath that Harry didn't quite catch.

Harry and Hermione quickly finished their cleanup and then helped the others with the disposal, and class ended just a few moments early giving them a chance to get deep into the castle's halls before their next class began.

Entering the large room for Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry noted many faces from Dumbledore's Army. Most were milling about the classroom that had been cleared of all desks and equipment. Harry could sense the cushioning spells on the floor and walls. As the clock ticked toward the hour, there was no sign of Professor Winters. When the second hand hit twelve, suddenly the lights were extinguished, and the door slammed loudly. As the bang echoed off the walls, there was a slight "whooshing" sound followed by a dozen cries of "Lumos!"

Without thinking, Harry shouted. "Katy! Parvati! Secure the door! Ron, Hermione! Take the windows! Neville! Dean! Your on me! The rest of you, ready for anything!"

As the warm light of a score of wands spread light across the room, the tall, handsome form of Professor Winters was revealed with several wands pointed at him, and a room full of grim-faced children ready to do serious harm to him. He quickly put up his hands and with a sheepish grin said in a distinctively American accent, "Wow! That didn't go as planned." He grinned brightly and said, "Stand down children. That was meant as a demonstration on being prepared. Evidently, it wasn't needed."

Every eye in the room turned to Harry who nodded his head and put away his wand. "Sorry, Professor. I'm afraid that after last year, we're all a bit on edge."

"And you, who is able to command teenagers so easily are?" Winters asked.

Harry blushed and said, "Harry Potter, sir."

The man nodded and then asked, "And how did you know who to call to?"

"They're people who were part of the DA last year, sir."

"The DA?" Winters asked.

"Dumbledore's Army," Hermione said. "Our last Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher wasn't very interested in teaching us how to defend ourselves, so we took it on ourselves to learn on our own. Harry was our teacher."

"I'm curious," Winters said, seeming to have recovered from his shock, and was looking at the group in approval, "Exactly which spells you were ready to cast?"

Going around the room he quickly discovered that he was about to be hit with two Shield Penetrating, five Stupefy, three Expelliarmus, one Expulso, two Shooting, and one Scurgify spells. The five Slytherins in the room just looked shocked. Winters chuckled and said, "Likely, you would have put me in the infirmary for a few days."

"Sorry, Professor," Harry repeated.

He held up a hand and said, "Don't be. You did exactly what you have trained to do. I'm glad to see that the lessons stayed with you." Then looking at the five Slytherins, he asked, "And why weren't you part of this Dumbledore's Army?"

"We weren't invited," Daphne Greengrass said. Then looking around she added, "But to be honest, I'm not sure how many of us would have taken them up on the offer." She looked down sheepishly and said, "There have been some poor decisions made on the parts of everyone I think."

"Just because your panties are all wet for Potter doesn't mean the rest of us are ready to drop to our knees unzip and service him!" Crabbe said from the corner.

" **That** was uncalled for!" Winters growled. "Ten points from your house, and you will stay for detention." Crabbe started to protest, but Winters held up a hand and said, "Open your mouth one more time with anything other than an apology to the lady, and you'll spend your free period as a target dummy for the first years. Am I clear? Do not answer unless it's an apology, simply nod." The force of the young man's personality washed across the room like a wave of power. Crabbe nearly stepped back as he simply nodded. "Thought so."

Daphne was nearly in tears, and it was Susan, Angelina, and Hermione who stepped over and put an arm around the Slytherin girl, all shooting Crabbe daggers with their eyes.

"Now, let's get one thing straight. In this class you are going to come into controlled conflict with each other. But that conflict is to be contained within the combat ring. Outside of it, I don't want to hear a word." Professor Winter's voice lowered half an octave as he continued, "And attacks like the one we just heard will be met with the most severe penalty I can dish out." He stopped and looked at all the young men in the room. "Anybody else thinks something like that is funny, I suggest you go home and ask your daddy why he didn't raise you right."

"Now, I'm going to pair you off," he paused and looked at Harry and said, "No, I think I'll let Mr. Potter pair you off. He knows your strengths and weaknesses better than I do at the moment, and we're going to practice some basic combat spells."

"Like in dueling?" Lee Jordan asked.

Winters shook his head. "I'm sure by now, you've all been taught the rules of dueling. No. Dueling is for tweed-suited gentlemen to settle disagreements over whose ascot is the wrong color. If you're fighting by the rules of dueling, in what's going on out in the world, you're going to lose. You can be sure that the Dark Lord and his death gobblers," he paused and looked at Crabbe making Harry wonder if he knew exactly who and what the Slytherin's father was, "won't be. If you're fighting fair, you're losing."

He smiled over at Harry and said, "If you don't mind, Mr. Potter, I will use you for our first demonstration."

Harry shrugged finding himself liking this young American. "What do you want me to do?"

"First, I want to check your reactions. Do you know how to shield from a stupefy spell?"

"I know several ways, sir."

"Okay, what are they?"

"Well, first are the various anti-jinx spells. Then, there are five versions of Protego. Of course, they won't stop an unforgivable."

"Is there any way to stop an unforgivable?" Winters asked.

Harry shrugged and said, "Using normal magic, no. The only defense is to be somewhere else."

"Very true. That's why being able to move is so important in spell combat. Now, what we're going to do here is a limited kumite, from the Japanese word meaning fighting. I will throw an attack, you will defend, and then counter-attack. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and swallowed hard. This man had a reputation of battling vampires, werewolves, and even demons. He steadied himself, cleared his mind and went into a ready stance. "Yes."

"Ready?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Stupefy!" Winters yelled and hurled the spell at him.

Instinctively, Harry raised the shield spell that his cousin had taught him, while simultaneously whipping his own wand around, " Expelliarmus!" he shouted as he quickly moved to the side. The instructor's wand went flying from his hand, as he rolled to the side, while Harry tracked him with his wand."

"Wow!" Ron said with a smile. "How did you get that shield spell up so fast, Harry?"

Winters laughed at him and said, "That's cheating."

"Didn't you just say that if you're playing fair, you're losing?" Hermione asked.

"So I did, Ms. Granger," Winters said, picking up his own wand. "But nobody expects wandless magic." He looked at Harry and asked, "Fae?"

Harry nodded. "It's a spell my cousin, Hunter taught me."

"And it gives you a significant advantage in a fight."

"What did he do?" Ron demanded.

"He raised a fae spirit shield. Since he didn't need a wand for that, he could start his counter-attack almost immediately."

"Can we learn that?" Crabbe demanded.

"Not unless you want to age yourself into an old man with a few spells," Winters said. "Fae magic puts a severe drain on mortals."

"How's that fair?" Crabbe demanded.

"Yeah," Ron added. Then as if realizing who he'd just agreed with, he quickly added, "How's that going to help us?"

"It's not," Winters said. "But you can learn to get that protection spell up, and counter-attack just as quickly. And you' notice that he didn't stay still. As soon as he got off the spell, he moved. Just be sure not to move out from behind your shield when you do it."

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, and something seemed to pass between them. "If you want, I can do it again, sir. This time using only my wand."

Winters shook his head and said, "No. Ms. Granger is right. If you're playing by the rules, you're losing."

"All the rules?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I wouldn't use any of the unforgivables, but short of that, do what you have to do to win. Believe me, the Dark Lord and his minions won't be fighting by the Marquis of Queensbury Rules." He smiled over at Harry and said, "Now, if you would help me divide the students up in pairs Mr. Potter. Please try and balance their skills equally."

"I think I understand, Sir," Harry said, and set about putting people together who were equally matched, or as close as he could get. When he got to the Slytherins, he just had to guess. Crabbe and Goyle automatically gravitated toward each other, so that was two who were easy.

From there, class proceeded apace, each of them taking turns as the first attacker. By the end of the class, it was clear that the members of the DA had a significant advantage over those who hadn't been. Much to Crabbe and Goyle's consternation, Neville proved to be quite good, and ended up coaching _them_. Something that Harry knew was going to eat their souls.

* * *

Severus got the distinct feeling that the Dark Lord was disappointed in the intensity and depth of his screams as he writhed under his Cruciatus. But to be honest, after over a week of facing his greatest failures, unable to turn away, unable to get relief, even in dreamless sleep, physical torture had lost its edge. It was painful, yes, but nothing like the pain of losing Lily again over and over all those long days.

When it was over, panting, he asked, "What is it you desire, My Lord?"

"To know you are mine, Severus. To know that you are still loyal."

"What is it you have me do My Lord?" Severus asked in his most servile voice. His own hatred of the monster who took Lily from this world was hidden deep in his pathetic soul.

"I want to know how my forces are being decimated. Who is this mysterious witch with the dancing blade? Why have the grey wizards begun to move against me? Where are the Malfoys?"

Severus remained silent. He could not answer the questions to the Dark Lord's satisfaction. The Dark Lord would not listen to reason, would not hear that his forces were falling because the witch did not play by the same rules as the other wizards. He would not hear that the witch was fighting with power and skill beyond any of the soft pure-blood nobles who made up the death eaters. He could not accept that Malfoy had made nearly the ultimate sacrifice to rid himself of the dark mark and its influence. And, he could not fathom that Greengrass and his forces were fed up with being caught in the middle between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, that they were working as much against the Headmaster as they were him. Ego was a powerful thing, and sometimes it was an insurmountable stumbling block to men and women who sought power above all else. "I cannot answer those questions to my Master's satisfaction." He again offered his arm for further punishment. It was easier than hearing him drone on about subjects he could no longer fathom.

"No Severus," the Dark Lord said stroking Severus' face. "It seems you know your place. There is no longer any need to teach it to you." He rose from his seat and stalked across the rundown townhouse they'd commandeered. "Now we will seek the answers to new questions together."

"As you wish, Master," Severus said evenly.

"How can I break the blood lock on Malfoy's estates?"

"There are several ways, My Lord, but none of them are feasible."

"Explain them."

"The first of course is to find Malfoy and force him to open them to you. Next would be to marry into his line and seize control of the family name. Again, that would first require you to find him. Lastly would be to kill every goblin. It's their magic that holds the blood lock in place."

"How many goblins would I need to kill?" the Dark Lord asked.

"All of them, My Lord. As long as goblin blood still flows, the blood lock is in place."

"What about the Black estates?"

"Somewhat easier, but still difficult. The first is to eliminate Harry Potter. With that, the title of Lord Black would fall back to either Bellatrix, or Narcissa Malfoy. As Narcissa is incommunicado, that means it would fall to Bellatrix. Then you either order her to do as you say, or marry her and take control of the title through any offspring."

"That would literally kill two birds with one stone," the Dark Lord said.

"It would be the beginning of it, My Lord." With some trepidation, Severus realized he was already skirting the edges of his curse. "Beyond that, I cannot say any more." Severus could not bring himself to cross that particular line as it meant his own death. But he had no love for the Potter,s neither Harry nor James. Harry was the ultimate symbol of James' triumph over Severus. That Lily had given herself to James in such a way as to create Harry was the thorn that niggled deep in what little was left of Severus' manhood. He'd been cuckolded his whole life, and Harry Bloody Potter was the symbol of that. If he died, then Severus would shed no tear, but he could no longer take action to help bring about that death. He could no longer even participate in Dumbledore's scheme to sacrifice Harry to Voldemort in order to make the Dark Lord vulnerable enough to finally.

"Cannot or will not?"

"Cannot, My Lord," Severus replied. "It is beyond my understanding," he lied.

"Very well," Voldemort said. "Return to Hogwarts. Keep me appraised as to what Dumbledore is planning. And tell Aurelius Karkov I have need of some specific items."

"Yes My Lord." Severus exited the room to carry out the Dark Lord's instructions. He did however wonder what the man needed from a blacksmith.


	13. Midnight Snack

**AN/**

 **I was going to draw a parallel between the way Harry is treated with the way Garion is treated in the Belgariad. It's very reflective of Garion's role as "Sir Stupid" through which the reader can gain knowledge of the world around him by having someone explain it to him. But, The Rivan Codex would not have yet been published when this story is set, so Harry wouldn't have read it. Still both characters are on the Hero's Journey, both have long white bearded mentors, and both are masters of death. It's just Garion can heal the crack in the world, and Harry isn't quite that powerful. Hmmmm... Garion vs. Vodemort. "Burn!" ~grin~**

 **Sorry for another short chapter, but I spent most of the day with my lovely wife, and I won't apologize for that. She's prettier than you guys. ~wicked evil grin~**

 **Most of the information about Hunter comes from Cobalt-Blue's The Ill-Born Gift and Godstones: Reignition**

* * *

"Harry, what is wrong with you?" Ron demanded as the two of them settled into the dorm that evening.

"What do you mean," Harry asked.

"What's the deal with all the flirting with Daphne Greengrass? She's a Slytherin!"

"Flirting?" Harry asked. "I'm not flirting, I'm treating her like a human-being. The same way I treat you."

"I'm your best-mate. She's... she's... she's a... Slytherin!"

"I believe you mentioned that a time or two."

"Exactly. Gryffindors and Slytherins hate each other!"

"Really? Is that in the student handbook somewhere?" Harry asked with a smile. "Daphne and her grandfather did me a kind turn. I'm just treating her with the same respect they treated me."

"Anything she did, she did for her own advantage!" Ron insisted.

Harry shrugged and said, "Perhaps, but what they did was something you didn't do. Something you were in the same position to do, and never thought about doing."

"What!?" Ron demanded.

"The told me about my family. I don't necessarily mean just about my mom and dad, but about the Potter family. They gave me books on the history of the families in the wizarding world." He paused a moment and thought about what he wanted to say. He didn't want to hurt Ron, and he sure as hell didn't want to set off another jealous streak. Sometimes it seemed that Ron went out of his way to prove all the stereotypes of redheads. "For some reason, everyone automatically assumes that I know everything about the wizarding world, when I know less than even Hermione. Even worse, you act like I'm an idiot when I ask simple questions about how everyday things are done. The Greengrasses went out of their way to help me with that."

"That's it, they went out of their way," Ron said. "Don't you see? They want something for their trouble!"

"And they're getting something for it," Harry said.

"What?" Ron asked in shocked.

"I'm treating them with courtesy, and gratitude, like I would anybody else who helped me," Harry said.

Ron sat there long moments, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words to say. Finally, he demanded, "And what's this with you and Hermione being so buddy-buddy all of a sudden? Do you like getting bossed around all the time?"

Harry just shrugged and said, "We talk about a lot of things."

"What kinds of things?"

"We compare what we're learning here at Hogwarts with the muggle world. And we talk about what's happened to me. About my birthright."

"What _**has**_ happened to you?" Ron demanded, his tone just short of accusatory.

Growing weary of the argument, he looked at Ron and said, "Evidently, I'm not quite mortal anymore, Ron. And evidently, you and your sister have a problem with that. Thirdly, it seems, you're concerned that I'm going to take up baby-snatching or something." With his irritation, he felt his magic flare around him, and the lights in the room dimmed a moment and then returned to their normal levels. He grabbed his wand, and jumper and stalked from the dorm room into the common room to find several other students looking up. It was clear that their voices had carried.

"Anybody else?" Harry asked the room between clenched teeth. Receiving no answer, he left the room and headed back toward the Astronomy Tower.

Reaching the top of the stairs he found it vacant as usual, there being no labs on the first night of school. His frustration still hot in his mind, he leaned against the railing and looked out over the beauty of the Scottish countryside. The evening was cloudy, so his companions from last night were not visible, yet he could feel their movement across the sky.

He sighed trying to force the frustration from his mind. Closing his eyes, he searched for this center, for his magical core, like his cousin taught him to do. Slowly the frustration and the anger ebbed from his body, and flowed out into the night to dissipate among the rising fog from the lake below. Finally reaching a state of calm, he took the time to actually meditate on the events of the day. He studied what had happened to him in Potions, his actions during the DADA class, and the events at lunch. A pattern was beginning to form, he just couldn't quite make out what it was yet.

Then his stomach growled, reminding him that he'd eaten little at both lunch and dinner, as the food no long appealed to him. Then remembering his lesson from Hunter, he opened his eyes and concentrated. Reaching out, he forged the ambient magic around him into the form of a cheeseburger, shake, and fries. It took a couple of tries, and the taste was off at first, but he finally managed to get something that wasn't entirely unlike his favorite fast food meal.

"Well, at least I know you will never starve," Hunter's voice came from the shadows. Looking up, Harry saw his cousin take form as several fae lights flared around the tower. For just a second, his form seemed to change shape as the shadows slowly, almost reluctantly, unwrapped themselves from Hunter's body seeming to take part of him and his clothing with them into the aether. He nodded to the meal and said, "I take it you're frustrated?"

"How did you know?"

Hunter smiled as he pushed back the hood of the dark cloak he was wearing and folded himself down to sit on the hard stone next to Harry. "Honestly?"

Harry nodded and said, "No secrets between us, Cousin."

"Not quite true, but we can get around that. Okay, honestly. Children who've been abused often hoard food, and when they are stressed, and frustrated, they often dip into it for comfort."

"How do you know this kind of thing?" Harry asked in surprise.

Hunter smiled showing his sharp vampire-like fangs and said, "Because I suffer from bipolar manic depression. I sort of made a study of psychological disorders when I discovered it."

"You never seem depressed to me," Harry said.

"Thank you. I've gotten pretty good at hiding it. My parents can usually tell when I'm on a downswing though because I tend to get very formal."

Then something occurred to Harry. "How did you get here? You're not supposed to be able to apparate inside Hogwarts."

"I didn't. I was in Hogsmead talking with a friend. I saw you up here, so I flew."

"Flew?"

Hunter nodded and said, "Yeah. It's a spell I created back when I was a teenager. I don't like teleporting because it damages the fabric of reality when its used. I've seen what happens to worlds when the fabric becomes too weak. We call them hell-worlds."

"You've done a lot of traveling, haven't you?" Harry asked.

"Not as much as I would like. I've only recently been released from my duties by my grandfather to travel and explore. He told me to go out and learn, travel, or found an empire. ( _ **Cobalt-Blue's The Ill-Born Gift.)**_ This is one of the first places I stopped off. Then with a wave of his hand, he produced a second meal, this one of breakfast foods. "Don't mind if I join you, do you? I haven't eaten since lunch."

"Not at all," Harry said digging into his double cheeseburger.

"Wanna tell me what's got you frustrated?" Hunter asked biting into what looked like a scone with white gravy and chunks of sausage.

"My friend Ron thinks I'm going to take up baby-snatching. He's got something against fae."

"Well, you're going to run across people like that. There are going to be fae who give you grief for your mortal father. I've had the same problems. The daeoni rejected me as their heir because they say I'm a throwback to the first daeoni. I have a dear enemy that hates me because of my birthday. People will find a reason to dislike you. You just have to make sure your own actions are honorable and done with right good will. Those who dislike you will do so, but you will know you've done the right thing."

"Dear enemy?"

"Some enemies become closer than friends, Harry. And sometimes our friends can be our worst enemies. I think that's something you're discovering now."

Harry nodded and said, "Yeah. I'm finding out that some people I put on a pedestal aren't quite the white knights I thought they were."

"It happens," Hunter said. "It's part of growing up."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Hunter replied sipping his juice.

"Have you ever had a friend that you suddenly realize that you might have more than just friendly feelings toward?"

Hunter smiled and said, "I think everyone has gone through that at one time or another in life. Sometimes, it takes a while to appreciate the people in our lives."

"Is there anyone in your life like that?"

Hunter nodded and said, "Two actually, sort of. He, she, they started off as my bodyguards after I was injured in a fight. At some point, we decided to take the relationship farther. Part of it was experimentation, part of it is genuine affection. Will it last? I don't know."

"Do they have a name?"

"Reagan and Teagan," he said. ( _ **The Flesh-Crafter's Folly**_ ) "Does your friend have a name?"

Harry blushed and said, "Hermione."

"The brunette who visited you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"Have you told her?"

"No. I'm not sure how she will take it."

"Worst thing she can do is turn you into a toad," Hunter said with a smile.

"Or laugh."

"I think I'd rather her laugh at me than turn me into a toad," Hunter said.

"Maybe," Harry replied.

"If you want to resolve it, tell her. If you want to bask in the feelings, then say nothing and see what happens. But I'll warn you, down that road can lie heartache. Many a men and women have loved from afar, and grown to resent it. Sometimes they make themselves miserable for a lifetime over the one who got away."

Harry nodded. "It never gets any easier, does it?"

Hunter shrugged, "I don't know. I haven't lived forever. I know interacting with mortals can be a drain. It's a good reason to maintain a circle of friends who aren't mortal."

"You're the only person I know who's not mortal," Harry said.

"We'll have to do something about that." Hunter said. "And that's something else you need to consider. You are not mortal. You're lifespan is measured in millennia. Mortals are only around for a short time. Their love can be intense, fiery, and bitter-sweet, but they will eventually pass from this world, and you'll go back to the steady march of the years. I'm told it can tear out your heart when they pass beyond the veil. Some have told me that it's this loss that makes their love worth so much. You appreciate it more because it's transitional."

"I hadn't thought about that," Harry said.

"I understand it can be difficult."

"You keep saying that you understand..."

Hunter smiled and shoved him with his shoulder. "I'm not that much older than you, Cousin. I'm just over thirty, and in the measurement of my physiognomy, I'm not even fully mature yet."

"You look like you're only a little older than I am."

"Well, I got news for you cousin, by the standards of the daeoni, who I resemble the most, I won't be of marriageable age for another sixty or so years. So, I haven't yet experienced that kind of loss."

"But you said your ex..." Harry protested, but then realized he might have given offense.

Hunter frowned and said, "Is not mortal, and has returned to the realm of the Titans, not dead." Harry just nodded, not knowing what else to say. "Now, how are your lessons going? I know it's the first day of school, but I was wondering how you liked the changes here at Hogwarts."

"So far so good. A lot of what you're teaching me has started to click with what I'm learning here." Harry went on to recap his day to his cousin, paying close attention to the details of what happened with Slughorn and with Winters.

"I've heard of Biff Winters. He's about the best there is when it comes to hunting Arcana vampires and werewolves. He just has a bad habit of falling in love with his prey."

"Really?"

Hunter leaned in and said, "Yeah. Let's just say he's made his share of romantic mistakes too. Had to put one of them down with a silver blade."

"Ouch," Harry said.

"Exactly." Then Hunter's face became very serious, "Listen to me Harry. Things are about to really start to heat up in this wizarding war of yours. There's only so much I'm allowed to do at this point. You need to pay attention. Voldemort isn't going to take the loss of his forces so easy for long. Pretty soon, he's going to up his game. You're going to have to be ready."

"What else can I do?"

"Keep your eyes and ears open," Hunter said. "I've been told he's sent for a magical blacksmith. That could mean he's trying to create some kind of weapon."

"How do you know?"

"Voldemort has his spies; Dumbledore has his spies, and I have mine," Hunter replied.

"Somehow, I find that reassuring," Harry told him.

"Good," Hunter replied.

They finished the meal in silence, and near midnight, Hunter said his goodbyes and left. Then, Harry returned to his dorm room where if Ron wasn't yet asleep, he at least did a very good job of pretending to be.


	14. An American And a Werewolf in Hogsmead

Fenrir Greyback watched the streets of Hogsmead from the shadows of the Shrieking Shack. There was some irony in that, seeing how the shack had been used thirty-plus years ago. He was on a mission from the Dark Lord, and he hoped that it would gain for him the Dark Mark. Greyback knew that the Dark Lord was getting desperate as his forces were dwindling. The war with Dumbledore was not going as well as it should be, and although overtures to the giants were successful, other beasts were not so interested in a wizarding war.

His target tonight was a young lady. Not to kill, that wouldn't have near the drain on the family's resources as what he had planned. Best of all, it would kill two birds with one stone. Spies inside Hogwarts had reported that Potter had taken a fancy to the Greengrass girl. An attack on her, if timed right would leave her both infected and with child. That kind of assault would bring Scaravanger Greengrass to his knees and take him out of the war. And of course, Greyback would enjoy himself.

He'd been watching the students coming from the school all day, usually in pairs or small groups. The pretty blonde that was his target had come down with a group that included a Longbottom, Lovegood (another future target), a Weasely (the hair was a dead give away), and Potter himself. He growled in appreciation of the chance to rid the Dark Lord of so many thorns at one time. If he timed it right, he could slake his thirst on the blood of Longbottom, Potter, and the Weasley kid, and his lust on Greengrass. But he would have to take them by surprise, hit them from behind and eliminate the biggest threat first. That would be Potter. Weasley would probably run with the girls at the first sight of blood. That just left Longbottom. He would finish the job Bellatrix had begun on that particular family.

He knew the Dark Lord had another team out this night as well. Twin strikes were always more effective as they divided Dumbledore's defensive forces. He just wondered about the sword Karakov had pounded out of black iron without ever heating or tempering it. But that was not his mission. That one belonged to Bellatrix, and the Carrows. This mission was his alone, and with luck he'd receive his Dark Mark before the next full moon.

He waited patiently for long hours. Wolves were patient killers, and would stalk their prey for hours, moving slowly, conserving their energy for the chase. He took the time to study the village below. It was little more than a wide spot surrounding the train station that served Hogwarts. There were several shops that existed primarily to separate the students from their parents' hard-earned money.

As darkness neared, he watched as more and more students returned to the castle. In the East, beneath the horizon, he could feel the moon beginning to rise, to call to the wolf in his soul. Tonight he would feed and breed. Tonight the Dark Lord's enemies would know fear. Tonight he would release the wolf.

The Weasley boy, had already left his friends and returned to the castle muttering something angrily under his breath that even Greyback's ears couldn't make out. That was one less target to track when the chase began. So much the better.

As the five teens started up the dark road leading to the castle, Greyback slipped out of the shack and followed them. As he began to stalk them, the wolf grew stronger, and he felt his body begin to shift under the influence of the rising moon. Suppressing a growl, he slipped into the trees and onto a path that wound through the forest and came out where the road met the beach.

By the time he reached the end, the man was completely submerged in the wolf. Only his mission burned in his mind. Attack, but don't kill the girl. The males were meat, the females were to be pack, both infected and bred. For long moments he stood there, his form concealed by the shadows as his prey approached.

* * *

"I can't believe how much an ass Ron's been lately," Hermione said bitterly as she walked up the path with Daphne, Luna, Neville, and Harry. She knew she really didn't have to comment on it, but it was something to say, something to distract her from the grace and poise with which Harry was walking beside her. _Had he always filled out his jeans like that? Maybe it's because he's buying clothes that actually fit and aren't his cousin's cast-offs. Hermione, stop it!_ Her mind was a flurry of unbidden thoughts that made her blush with where they led.

"He's being Ron," Neville said. "He doesn't take change very well. He'll come around."

"I hope so," Harry said. "These bouts of pouting are starting to get old."

"I'm sorry if I'm causing you problems with Ron," Daphne said.

"Stop it right there, Daphne," Hermione interjected. "This is not your fault. Ron is perfectly capable of making an ass out of himself without you trying to take the blame for it."

"Hermione's right," Harry said. "You've done nothing wrong. We all can have whatever friends we want. We don't need Ron's permission."

Neville nodded beside her, and she noticed that Luna slipped a hand into his. That brought a smile to her face. She briefly wondered when they would get a chance to speak to her about what Harry's cousin had told them about her. "Let's just focus on the friends that are here," he said quietly.

"Good idea," Harry said. "Live in the moment."

As they approached the small cliff where the road curved around the edge of the forest and onto the beach Hermione felt a cold shiver run down her spine and she shuddered.

"What?" Harry asked.

She shook her head and said, "Nothing. Just getting a bit chilled I guess."

Much to her surprise, Harry put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her up against him. She couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement from his touch. "I'll keep you warm."

She smiled up at him and said, "Thanks." On the other side of Harry, Daphne gave her a wink and a surreptitious "thumbs up".

"What was that?" Luna said looking back toward the forest.

"What was what?" Neville asked.

"I thought I heard something in the forest."

"Centaurs maybe?" Harry suggested.

"Maybe," Luna said snuggling in next to Neville.

They walked on for maybe another fifty yards when something huge, heavy, and hairy slammed into her and Harry, sending them tumbling down the small cliff toward the pebbles of the beach below. Looking up, and she saw a glint of yellow eyes, caught the fetid smell of rotten meat from a maw with way too many teeth. She felt a deep slash across the back of her thigh as the mass pulled Harry away from her, and they tumbled toward the water below.

"Harry!" she screamed as the huge grey and black form of a werewolf stood up on its hind legs and howled at the moon. Harry lay half in the water, on his side, his wand several feet away. She began searching herself for her own wand, and in a panic realized that she'd lost it in the tumble down the cliff.

Finishing its howl, the beast suddenly lunged down at Harry who rolled to the side and came up with both palms pointing toward it. " _ **Mynd i ffwrdd!**_ " Harry screamed. A bolt of pure force rocketed from his hands and slammed the creature backwards into the face of the cliff, and pushed Harry in the opposite direction out into deep water.

"Werewolf!" Neville screamed and whipped his wand toward Hermione. " ** _Ascendio!_** "

Hermione felt herself rocket up the cliff and back to to the road above.

" _ **Accio wand!**_ " Luna shouted and Hermione's wand returned to her hand.

" _ **Stupefy!**_ " Daphne's spell barely missed the werewolf as it scrambled up the cliff toward the road, it's body already healing the damage Harry's spell had done to it.

"We need to run!" Daphne said and turned toward the castle.

"No!" Hermione said. "That will just mark you as prey!"

"We fight," Neville said grimly.

As its huge paws reached the top of the cliff, the werewolf heaved itself by main force high up into the air. The children scrambled to get out of its way as it came down in the middle of where they were standing. With one massive backhanded paw, it caught poor Daphne under the jaw and sent her flying backwards into the trees as it spun on Neville.

" _ **Stupefy!** " " **Stupefy!** " " **Stupefy!**_ " Three spells went off simultaneously. All three caught the werewolf dead in the chest. It was driven backwards by the sheer force of the spells slamming into it. Stopping it shook its head, then lowered its gaze toward the three standing students. Then, its gaze shifted to the dazed form of Daphne lying at the edge of the forest.

With one great leap, it cleared all three of the defenders and landed next to her. Hermione tracked it with her wand and just before it landed, she let go with " _ **Incendio!**_ "

The jet of flame lashed out an caught the werewolf full in the face, burning away its fur and scorching its skin before it could get an arm up to protect its face.

" ** _Accio Daphne!_** " Luna yelled. The unconscious girl flew away from the werewolf and tumbled along the ground to lie at the blonde's feet. Hermione was sure that Daphne had picked up even more bruises.

"Hit again with fire!" Neville screamed as he pointed his wand and yelled, " _ **Incendio Duo!**_ "

A larger, more powerful jet of flame lashed out to engulf the werewolf, just before it leapt high into the air in an arc that was going to bring it down right next to Daphne. "It's after Daphne!" Racing over, she dove at the unconscious girl's body, grabbed her and rolled out of the way just as the wolf's back paws landed, ripping her jumper.

Suddenly something large tall and blonde slammed into the werewolf with the force of the Hogwarts Express. There was the definite report of the oak they slammed into cracking under the force of the blow. "You don't attack children!" the strange blond screamed as it rained blow after blow into the werewolf's face and body with terrible force.

Suddenly the werewolf rolled to the side and batted the newcomer away with a powerful backhand. In mid-air, he began tumbling, and twisting so that he landed on his feet, skidded backwards several feet, one hand on the ground bracing himself. His back foot stopped just short of the cliff where Harry was climbing to the top, his wand in his hand.

"About time you got here, Potter!" Neville said. "You're slacking!"

"Bite me, Neville!" Harry told his friend.

"Right now, let's make sure nobody gets bitten, boys," the newcomer said.

Hermione finally got a chance to look at him. He was tall, thin, with a strong jawline and blue eyes. He was quite handsome, somewhere in his early twenties with a shock of straw colored hair, and she thought she detected just the beginning of points on his ears. "Who are you?"

"A friend of Harry's cousin," the man said never taking his eyes off the werewolf who was picking himself up from the ruins of the massive oak they'd smashed into. "Name's Sean." Hermione could hear bones snapping back into place as the werewolf's body healed.

" _ **Calvorio Totalus!**_ " Hermione pointed her wand at the creature and yelled in a pique of inspiration. They all watched in awe as all the fur on the creature suddenly fell out. She grinned and said, "Just call me a one woman Nair-Force!"

Harry and Sean both turned and looked at her. "You did not just say that!" Harry said.

"This one's a keeper!" Sean commented. "She's even got the snappy repartee down pat."

The wolf turned and growled at them, advancing slowly, keeping one wary eye on the group of friends. Still, Hermione noticed that its gaze kept coming back to the unconscious form of Daphne. "It wants Daphne," Hermione said.

"Well it can't have her," Neville and Harry both growled simultaneously.

"You kids get her back to the castle," Sean said. "I'll handle our Scottish Hairless here." Then insanely he strode toward the massive monster his fists balled up tight. "Come on, Rover. It's been a while since I've danced with the devil in the pale moonlight."

"Who the hell is that?" Neville asked.

"He says he's a friend of Hunter," Harry said. "That's good enough for me for now! You, Luna, and Hermione get Daphne to Madam Pomfrey's. I'll stay here and help."

"The hell you will," Hermione said. "You stay, I stay."

Harry gave her a quick look, and then nodded. "Okay." Then turning to Neville he said, "Send help."

Hermione watched in horror as Sean stepped up close to the now hairless werewolf and waited. The wolf seemed to be confused by his total lack of fear, and the audacity of facing him. It leaned down and growled in his face. With lightning speed the blonde lashed out with an open palm strike to the creature's throat. Then like something from a Bruce Lee movie, he yanked back hard, and ripped away the creature's flesh and windpipe, pulling its tongue out by its roots.

The creature tried to howl in pain but only a gurgling sound came out, followed by the sound of breaking bones as the blond danced to the side, and kicked it in the ankle. "Get the girl out of here! I've got this!"

Harry looked at her and shook his head. "Fire kills most supernatural shifters. Let's take him down."  
Hermione nodded and raised her wand. "Sean, duck! _**Incendio Trius!**_ " she screamed.

 _ **"Llosgi!**_ " Harry screamed.

A jet of flame lashed out from her wand, barely missing Sean as he dove to safety, just before it engulfed the huge werewolf. Simultaneously, a gout of flame erupted from the ground and fueled the flame further. Hermione could feel the wind pulled into the flame feeding it oxygen as the wolf burned and writhed in pain as the flame seemed to eat at its soul as much as its body.

When it was over, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived on the scene to find Hermione, Harry, and Sean standing over the charred skeleton of the werewolf. "What has happened?" McGonagall demanded.

"Werewolf," Harry said. It attacked us. It seemed to be after Daphne."

The elderly witch looked over at Sean and asked, "And you are?"

He smiled and said, "Doctor Sean Matthews of the University of Miami, Ma'am. I'm here studying the merfolk."

"Is this your work?" she asked indicating the charred corpse.

He shook his head and said, "No ma'am. I just kept it busy, danced with it awhile until the others could get the girl out of here. Then these two lit a fire under Rover's tail." Hermione couldn't help but notice that the young man sounded like that muggle woman with her cooking show: Paula something.

Professor Dumbledore took out his wand and cast something over the crumbling bones. Raising an eyebrow, he said, "You just killed Fenrir Greyback."

"I'm sorry, Professor. We didn't want to kill him, but it was the only way to stop him."

"Not quite true," Harry said low and angrily. "I have no problem whatsoever with killing a man who infects children with lycanthropy to punish their parents."

"Have to agree with Harry here," Doctor Matthews said. "Everything I hit him with, he kept healing. Even ripped out his throat, and he kept healing. Only way to end it was to kill him." Then he looked over at Hermione and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "But I understand that killin' isn't something you like to do. The fact that it bothers you speaks volumes about you, young lady."

"Well, I'm going to have to report this to the ministry," Dumbledore said. "There's no way we can hide it."

"Are there likely to be repercussions for the children?" Doctor Matthews asked.

"I should hope not," Professor McGonagall said indignantly.

He nodded. "Good."

"I suppose it was a lucky thing that I agreed to let you study the lake," Dumbledore said giving the doctor a sideways glance.

"I would say you're right."

"How's Daphne?" Hermione asked.

"A few broken bones, quite a few bruises, and cuts, but she's okay. She wasn't bitten."

"Good," Harry said, his voice cold and dark. "What next?"

"We wait for the aurors and then we go back to the castle."


	15. Battles and Their Aftermath

**AN/ I want to thank each and everyone of the people who've taken time to review, good or bad, or just drop a line. All comments are appreciated. Again, we're moving forward with our story. At this point you can completely throw out most of the events of the Half Blood Prince. Some elements will remain to be worked in, but don't expect there to be the same chain of events.**

* * *

Arthur Weasley had a bad feeling about things. It was too quiet in the Burrow, and something had his nerves on end. Things had been quiet at work today, and that was never a good sign. It meant that people were hunkering down in their homes and trying to keep from attracting attention. The whole situation was a testament to the differences in Amelia Bones' government and that of Cornelius Fudge. Even Doris Umbridge had been unusually quiet.

And of course things were not really that great at home right now. He and Molly had argued over what he'd found in the kitchen cupboard. The arguments had gone from hot to a cold silence when he'd used his wand to burn the ingredients of the two potions to ashes. It had gone from angry accusations of "I'm only looking out for the welfare of our daughter!" to stone cold silence. Arthur found the silence somewhat more comforting than he expected, even if it did make the Burrow echo uncharacteristically like a tomb.

Still, he was a bit on edge. It wasn't so much the silence in the Burrow, as it was the silence outside it. Even the garden gnomes seemed unusually quiet tonight as he settled into his workshop to tinker.

He was about an hour into dismantling something the muggles called an automatic dishwasher, when suddenly the wards around the Burrow flared to life. Looking outside, he could see a wall of flame suddenly encircle the ward-line. "Molly!" he yelled, grabbed his wand and hurried toward the house.

Reaching the lower step, he heard the mad cackling of Bellatrix LeStrange. Her voice echoed through the flames, soft, singsong, and terrifyingly mad, "I wonder if you two will last any longer than the Longbottoms?"

Arthur turned to see three streaming black clouds streak across the sky and slam into the Burrow's shields. Although they held, he could feel them begin to crack under the assault. "Arthur, get inside," Molly hissed at him as she opened the door.

"No," he said. "There are three of them, and I don't want to be trapped in there when they break through. They'll just set fire to the house and keep pushing us back inside."

Nodding, his portly wife pulled her housecoat across her front and tied the sash. "You may be right." Looking around fearfully, she demanded, "What are we going to do?"

"There's nothing we can do, except stand and fight and hope help gets here."

"I sent a message through the floo network to Albus, but he wasn't in his office," she said. "I left a message with Armando Dippet's portrait. He said he would inform someone at the ministry."

Arthur nodded and watched the sky carefully as the fire slowly ate away at the shields. "You could apparate away," he told his wife.

"And leave you here? Nonsense! Either we both go, or we both stay." He nodded to her, and took her hand, their fight earlier in the night forgotten.

As the wards began to collapse, the two stood back to back. Arthur began to make out the faces of the other two attackers: Amycus and Alecto Carrow. This was not good. Those two were vicious, bad tempered, and had just enough brains to be dangerous, but not enough to be useful for anything other than causing misery and chaos. And still in the distance, Bellatrix LeStrange taunted them with her singsong voice. "You are going to die this night, Molly Weasley. No more being a brood cow to pop out blood traitors. I wonder how your children will react to what's going to happen to their mother?"

"I'm going to kill that bitch," Molly said under her breath.

"Just keep your cool, dear."

"The Dark Lord has given us a new weapon. Tonight, we use it on you," the mad witch sang.

 **BOOM!** The shields around the Burrow suddenly collapsed and the fire rushed in. Arthur threw up a shield and the flame parted around them, but engulfed their home, setting it ablaze from the inside. Next to him, Molly didn't hesitate. A quick flourish of her wand, and her spell hit Amycus square in the chest. Molly had a special talent for healing magic, and that translated into a deep understanding of how to hurt as well as heal.

Amycus never stood a chance as every muscle in his body became stone and then exploded outwards. Molly Weasley was not playing games this night. She'd lost her home and Arthur knew she was going to take as many of the Dark Lord's forces with her as she could.

"Amycus!" Alecto screamed. "You're going to die slow and painfully for that, bitch."

Suddenly, a half dozen more death eaters landed at the edge of the burnt wards, their wands drawn as they intended to force Arthur and his wife into the flames that had taken on a life of their own.

Then a black cloaked figure dropped from the sky behind he death eaters. Two dropped before they knew what hit them, as the points of two blades emerged from their chests. Just as quickly, the tiny witch danced away as the two death eaters dropped to the ground, quite dead.

"Aaaaaaand here's our guest of honor!" Bellatrix sang as she rocketed toward the mysterious witch. The sounds of blade on blade began to ring out in the night air as Bellatrix and the mysterious witch danced in and out of the light.

Arthur and Molly went to work. With a nimbleness that belied their age, the couple began to dodge bolts of force, killing curses, hexes, and jinxes all the while returning fire at a rate that matched their attackers. Two death eaters went down in the first volley. One felled by a hex that caused his blood to boil in his body. The other fell to Arthur's drilling curse that left a neat hole right between his eyes. It was a grim reminder that without their children present, the Weasleys were capable of dealing out more death than Voldemort's forces could eat.

"Gotcha witch!" Bellatrix's voice rang through the night air. "Urk! That's not fair!"

"My blade is longer," the mysterious witch was heard in the night. "And it likes the taste of death eater blood."

As quickly as the fight was joined, it was over. Alecto and the two remaining death eaters suddenly rocketed into the sky leaving behind the bodies of their fallen comrades. Molly looked back at the burning Burrow and then down at the bodies. "What now?"

The mysterious witch came stumbling out of the darkness, pulling the body of Bellatrix LeStrange behind her. Both her swords were in scabbards at her hips, and her hood was pushed back and a lock of raven hair was falling in front of her face. There was a deep cut in the armor she was wearing and she was trying to staunch the blood with her free hand. With a strength that belied her size, she slung Bellatrix's body with the others and said, "Would you two mind informing the ministry that Bellatrix won't be needing her old cell at Azkaban."

"Exactly who are you?" Arthur demanded. Before the woman could reply he held up a hand and said, "Besides being a friend."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Just know that for now, we're on the same side."

"You've been wounded," Molly said.

The witch looked down a the wound and removed her bloodied hand. "Cold iron blade slipped through my defenses. If Voldemort was half as smart as he thinks he is, it would have been more effective. Luckily I'm not completely susceptible to the blood metal."

"Your fae?" Arthur asked.

"I just said I'm not susceptible to cold iron."

"But you said it got through your defenses," Molly pointed out.

"An insane opponent will occasionally get in an unexpected shot. Just ask that guy in Gotham."

"What guy? Where's Gotham?" Molly demanded.

The witch shook her head and said, "Never mind. It's not important." Looking up at the Burrow, she nodded her head in its direction said, "I'm sorry about that. Evidently your home was a target to draw me out." Then drawing one of her blades, she passed it in an arc in the direction of the house. The fire died instantly. Then with a precision one would never expect from three feet of finely forged steel, she pointed the blade toward the building and made several slashing motions. With the skill of a master fencer, she slowly circled the burnt out husk, stabbing and slicing at the air.

"What are you doing?" Arthur demanded.

"It's my fault your home was destroyed. I'm making it right," the witch said.

"I don't recognize that kind of magic," Molly said. "Is it fae?"

The witch shook her head and said, "No. What makes you think it's fae?"

"Because the fae have recently returned to Britain," Molly offered.

"It's not fae. It's something completely different," she said as she completed her circle. "One would think that a home called the Burrow would be underground."

"One does what one can," Arthur said.

The witch nodded and said, "One does." Then with a strange gesture with the tip of the blade, she pulled it back hard with both hands like a sailor hauling in a hawser.

The effect was immediate. The entire burnt out structure, turned itself to stone, and then began to sink deep into the earth. Arthur held on to Molly as the ground around them heaved and trembled as the sounds of solid rock popping and rearranging itself deep in the earth echoed in the night air. When it was over, there was only a single stone cube about ten feet to the side standing where the burrow once stood. A large ornate door dominated the south wall. The witch smiled and tossed a key to Arthur saying, "A burrow should be underground." Then with a smile and a wink, she disappeared.

* * *

It took an inordinate amount of time for the aurors to finally arrive. Minerva was getting an unpleasant knot in her stomach from what that suggested. She knew that lately the Dark Lord was sending out his strike teams in pairs, each aimed at a different target, and the DMLE never knew which strike was the primary one, and which one was a diversion.

The first to arrive was Tonks. She looked at the charred remains of Greyback, and her eyes began to tear up. She knew what this meant to Remus and his new family. She knew what Harry had done to his father's old friend without meaning to. When she turned away to gather her thoughts, it was Hermione who spoke up. "I don't understand. I thought she'd be happy that Greyback was dead."

Minerva sighed and said, "Many wizards over the years could have killed him, Hermione. He was only a middling sorcerer. But to do so was to condemn those he infected to the curse for the rest of their lives."

"What?" Harry asked. "How?"

"The only way for a werewolf to break the curse is to kill the werewolf that bit him."

"Then that means the curse should be broken. He should be free," Harry said.

"No, Harry," Albus said softly. "It only works if the infected werewolf kills the one who bit him, and it only works for _that_ werewolf. I know you meant well, I know you were only defending yourself, but what you just did sealed the curse on everyone that Greyback had infected."

Harry's face turned to one of absolute horror as the magnitude of what he'd done sank in to his mind. He and Hermione exchanged glances. Finally, Hermione said, We didn't know."

"And why didn't we know?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly angry. "If every wizard knew not to kill him because that would condemn Remus and his other victims to the curse forever, why wasn't I taught this? Why wasn't Hermione?" Harry turned to Albus. "You sent me to live with people who hated me, who made me their slave, and who starved me, all because you didn't want me to grow up in the public eye. Supposedly this was to protect me with my mother's blood and love. But we both know that was inaccurate. The problem is that they didn't know anything about the wizarding world because they despised it, and me. Did you ever stop to think that there might be things I needed to know to live in the wizarding world?" He paused a thought suddenly hitting him, "Did you ever plan for me to live in the wizarding world? Is there some secret that you know that I don't? Am I just a weapon to be used, and then discarded?"

"No, Harry," Albus said. "It's just I thought it was best for you to be away from the wizarding world."

"You thought it was best?" He turned to look where Tonks was trying to get her emotions under control. "Best for whom? For me? For Remus? It sure doesn't seem that way."

"Potter!" Minerva said sharply. "Remember to whom you're speaking."

Harry looked at her, his eyes blazing with anger. Then, looking down, he said, "Yes, ma'am." Turning, he walked over to Tonks and spoke softly to her for several moments. Then looking back at the rest of them, Tonks reached out and hugged Harry and nodded.

It was nearly an hour before anyone else from the ministry arrived. They took the statements of the children, and checked their wands. There was some question over the fact that his wand registered no use. He was then forced to demonstrate the fae spells he'd cast. That left the aurors in awe.

Finally, they returned to the castle near midnight. Much to Minerva's surprise, the Grangers, Augusta Longbottom, Xenophillius Lovegood, Scaravanger Greengrass, and Prince Hunter were waiting for them, all looking concerned. It was Scaravanger Greengrass who approached them, glaring viciously at Albus before stopping at Hermione and Harry. "Longbottom and Lovegood tells me you saved my granddaughter from a fate worse than death."

The two children looked at each other. Harry shook his head. He looked over at his cousin,and then seemed to go into a very formal mode. To Minerva's and she suspected to Albus' surprise, he crossed his chest with his wand hand, and then bowed slightly in the ancient salute to an elder and said, "Elder Warlock Greengrass, it was a group effort. All of us fought Greyback, even Daphne. But he seemed to be targeting her, and managed to surprise us and knock her out. We," he paused and nodded toward the whole group, "all of us just protected our friend. She would have done the same for us, sir."

Greengrass too seemed to be surprised by the sudden formal mode and quickly returned the ancient salute. "Still, you saved my granddaughter. She tells me that you've been working to reach across the school's house system to make friends. That's much appreciated. You have done my house, my family, and me a great service, Lord Potter."

"I've only done what needed to be done to save a fellow student, and a friend," Harry said. Then looking over at Tonks, he added, "And I am only now discovering the price of what I've done."

"Price?" he asked looking at Tonks.

"Potter and Granger killed Greyback," Minerva said. "They didn't know about the curse."  
Greengrass looked over at Tonks and frowned. "I'm sorry. It would seem you've been ill-served by the wizarding world in preparing for your role in it."

"It's something that Professor Dumbledore and I have begun discussing how to rectify, Elder." Harry said.

Greengrass smiled and said, "It would seem that you have taken to heart the lessons of Miss Prudy's text."  
Harry nodded to his cousin and said, "I've recently learned the value of formal mode from my cousin."

The older man smiled and said, "I think I understand." Nodding he said, "Thank you again."

Minerva turned her attention to where the Grangers were checking over their daughter. "You've been hurt!" Mrs. Granger said, pointing out the dried blood on the back of her leg. "That thing didn't bite you, did it?"

Hermione shook her head and said, "No. Just got hit with a claw."

"You were hit?" Harry demanded.

"Just a claw. It didn't bite me. I'm not infected."

"No, but it still might cause you problems," Madam Ponfrey said. Looking up to Albus she demanded, "Why wasn't Miss Granger brought here immediately for treatment?"

"Because we had to await the aurors," Albus said.

"She could have bled out!" Poppy accused. "Over here, now." She ordered the young woman.

"Neville," Augusta said, "You did a good job. I'm very proud of the young man you're becoming."

The conversation however that caught her attention the most was between Xenophillius Lovegood and Prince Daire. "At your convenience Mr. Lovegood, I would like to speak with you." He looked over at Luna and said, "It's about your daughter, and her unusual sight."

"You are aware that it's real?" Mr. Lovegood asked.

"Of course, I'm aware of it. I know from whence it came, and I think I can give you some information to help you cope with it."

"Any help would be appreciated."

"My card," Daire gave the man a small yellow card as were popular in England a hundred years ago. Minerva noted that he seemed to wince slightly at the movement.

Taking it, Lovegood said, "Thank you, Your Highness."

He looked over at the girl, and smiled up at her. "You are most welcome. Luna is a brave young lady, and I know my cousin values her friendship greatly."

"And she talks about Harry, and Hermione, and her friends, more since last year than ever before. Your cousin seems to be a good influence on her."

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual, Mr. Lovegood." Then looking over toward where Harry was finishing up with Elder Greengrass, he said, "Please excuse me."

Reaching up to put a hand on Harry's shoulder, Minerva came to realize how small the other man really was. Harry had shot up over the last few months. The younger cousin now towered over the older. "Are you okay, Harry?" he asked.

Harry nodded and said, "For the most part. I'm still a bit damp, and cold, but otherwise unharmed. " He looked over to where the Grangers were watching Poppy minister to their daughter and frowned. "At least I wasn't injured."

"I have the utmost faith in Madam Pomfrey's skill," she told the two.

"As do I, Professor," Potter said. "But I'm frustrated with other people deciding what is best for me."

"I'm sorry if I've failed you, Harry," Albus said. "Or that you feel that I have. I've done what I thought best for your, and for the greater good."

Daire's head snapped around and said to Harry, "Be wary of people who speak of the greater good. That's a term used by tyrants all throughout history to justify mistreating those without power. Usually when someone says it's for the greater good, it means that some group or person is going to be misused. Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, and many other collectivists spoke of the greater good while putting people in front of the firing squad." He smiled over at Dumbledore and said, "Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

"That sounds very much like a canard, Your Highness," Albus said.

"George Satayana, a mortal historian, Professor. In their own way, they have an immortality all their own."

"I wouldn't know about that," Albus said.

"Pity," Daire replied. "Now exactly what is the issue here? I understand that Harry and his friends were attacked by a werewolf who targeted Miss Greengrass, and managed to claw Miss Granger?"

"Essentially, yes."

"And the reason they were detained from getting medical treatment?"

"We had to await the aurors," Albus said. "Unfortunately, they killed the werewolf."

"Unfortunately?" Daire asked. "I've killed far more than my fair share of werewolves, including those of a Nazi persuasion. ( _The Feline Factor Book 3: The Sword of Sariel._ -First appearance of Hunter Daire.) What is the issue?"

"By doing so, it means that no wizard who'd been infected by him could not break the curse on them," Albus explained.

"How long has this werewolf been infecting people?" Daire asked.

"About thirty years," Albus said.

"If in the span of thirty years, none of them have put him out of your misery, and broken the curse, then I see no problem." He shook his head and said, "I'm not about to sacrifice my cousin, nor and of his friends for the cowardice of your wizards."

"That's harsh, Your Highness."

Daire shook his head and said, "You have no idea how harsh I can be, Professor. Now, if you don't mind, I would like my nephew to be checked over for injuries, treated where appropriate, and then released to get some rest. If you are incapable of doing that, I can get someone to do it for me."

"I hardly think that will be necessary," Minerva stepped in. "Your Highness. Madam Pomfrey is quite skilled."

"No doubt," Daire replied smiling, again revealing the sharp vampire-like teeth, his tails lashing back and forth behind him angrily.

"There was a delay in the aurors arriving because there was evidently an attack by the Dark Lord somewhere else simultaneously," Minerva said. "That was the cause of the delay."

Daire nodded, and seemed to be somewhat mollified. "Understood. I heard as much. I will be coming by on Monday to discuss this issue further."

"What is there to discuss?" Albus asked.

"Whether or not I will keep Harry here at this school for one," Prince Hunter replied. Then looking at the other parents he added, "I'm sure there are quite a few parents who are thinking the same. Perhaps its best to send the children out of Britain until you and this Voldemort person manage to kill each other, Professor Dumbledore."


	16. A Calm Before the Storm

**AN/I am sorry for the lack of chapters, but I've been preparing to return my EA on Thursday which required a huge investment of plain rote memory. For those few of you know what that is, I'm sure you understand how important is is, and how draining it can be. Please be understanding and know that I have not abandoned this story, just life has gotten in the way of writing in the last few days. Here is the latest chapter as I begin to build toward the final climax.**

* * *

Returning to his dorm room, Harry found Ron was not there, and Neville was sitting by the window looking out over the lake below. "Too wound up to sleep?" he asked the other boy.

Neville turned away from the window and frowned slightly. "Yeah. Strange isn't it. I should be exhausted, but I can't seem to sleep. I can't get my mind to shut down. I keep going over what I could have done differently."

Harry nodded, pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it in the hamper for laundry. "I understand completely. It'll be Monday night before my nerves finally stop jangling."

"Mine too. At least Gran is starting to see me as something other than a cock-up."

"I don't think she sees you as a cock-up, Neville. I think that maybe she doesn't realize how much pressure she puts on you," Harry said untying his trainers and slipping them under the bed. "But I can tell you this much, there are very few people that I trust to guard my back as I do you, Hermione, and Luna."

"Really?" the other young man asked. "You really trust me?"

Continuing to strip, he said, "Of course I trust you. You've had my back with that whole Triwizarding fiasco, with the DA, and at the Department of Mysteries. Neville, you and Hermione have been my most consistent friends since I got to Hogwarts. Don't think I haven't noticed that," he said as he pulled on his sleep pants.

Neville just nodded, the expression on his face one of both humbled awe, and appreciation. "Thanks, Harry. That means a lot."

Pulling on a tee-shirt he continued, "I'm serious, Neville. You are one of my closest friends. Don't ever let anybody put you down. You're a good man, and a loyal friend."

"You too, Harry," Neville said. Then with a smile, he added, "And Harry..."

"Yeah?"

"You need to eat more. You're thin as a rail."

Harry laughed and said, "Thanks, Neville. According to my cousin, this physique is about normal for half-fae. I can tell you this much though, I do miss the food from my house. Lately, the stuff in the Great Hall has tasted like sawdust."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"I think my taste buds are changing," Harry said.

"It's possible," Neville replied. Then changing the subject, he asked, "Speaking of Hermione, how is she?"

"She's going to have a nasty scar on the back of her leg. The claws are cursed so they won't heal right, but otherwise she's going to be okay.

"Never underestimate the power of a woman to not be okay when it comes to how she looks, Harry," Neville said.

Harry laughed at his friend's insight and said, "I think you might be right. Physically, she's going to be healthy. But as far as the scar is concerned, she's going to be angry as hell."

"So, Madam Pomfrey said she wasn't infected?"

Harry shook his head and sat down cross-legged on his bed and said, "No. She says that It might affect her in other ways, but she's not going to wolf-out on us on the full moon."

"What kind of effects?"

"I don't know. Maybe an increased craving for rare steak, that kind of thing."

"As long as she doesn't start sniffing people, I think she'll be okay," Neville said with a smile.

"Yeah, I don't think that would go over well," Harry told him. "That, or baying at the moon."

"You think Dumbledore would make her get dog tags?" Neville asked chuckling.

"Or worse, rabies shots," Harry replied.

"You know she'd kill us if she knew we were saying these things about her?"  
"Yeah, but we both know we don't mean them as anything than taking the Mickey out of her, and this is guy talk. My cousin says we don't repeat guy talk to ladies."

"Do you ever miss the fact that there wasn't really a father figure in your life?" Neville asked, suddenly veering the conversation into deep and dangerous territory.

Harry shrugged and said, "The closest thing to a father figure was my Uncle Vernon, and trust me, he wasn't a positive one." He paused a moment and then added, "And I think that's why I trusted Dumbledore so readily. I needed that in my life. You know, I think that no matter what the women of the world tell us, boys, and probably girls too, need a father."

Neville nodded and said, "Me too. My uncle Algernon tried to be that for me, but it wasn't a good fit."  
Harry smiled wanly. "So I heard." He stopped to think and said, "It's funny, up until this summer I didn't know my cousin from Freyja's housecat, but I've grown quite fond of him. I could even say that I look up to him, if he wasn't so short."

"He is a bit on the small side, isn't he," Neville said.

"Yeah."

A long silence followed as each of them became lost in their own thoughts. "So you and Hermione?" Neville asked quietly a little later.

Harry nodded and said, "I think I would like it. I'm not sure how she feels."

"Who knows how girls feel? I mean they feel a hundred things a minute. They're hard to gauge."

"That's true," Harry said. Then he casually asked, "You and Luna?"

Even in the starlight, Harry could see his friend's face light up. "Yeah, I'm crazy for her. In a good way."

"I can see that. She's got a good heart, she's brave, she's smart, and don't take this wrong, but she's quite attractive."

"So I've noticed," Neville replied with a smile.

After that, the two boys lost in their own thoughts drifted off to sleep, their minds finally relaxing and finding a strange comfort in the friendship between them. Knowing that each of them had the other's back, let them drift into dreams that although not necessarily pleasant were not populated by raging werewolves.

It was late Saturday morning before Ron finally returned to the school. Harry couldn't help but notice how quiet he was. Something else had occurred, and Harry wasn't sure what it was. He honestly hoped that nothing had befallen any of the Weasleys. He might have issues with some of them right now, but for the most part, they'd always treated him well, and he appreciated that.

Harry was walking along the Black Lake caught up in his own thoughts. Neville was in Professor Sprout's garden helping her, and Luna was visiting Hermione and Daphne in the infirmary and were talking about things that Harry didn't want to think about when the redhead approached him. "Harry! Wait up!"

Harry stopped as Ron shambled across the low beach toward him. "What's up, Ron?" Harry asked neutrally.

"Is it true what I heard about Hermione?" Ron asked stepping up beside him.

Harry shrugged and said, "I don't know what you heard about her?"

"That she got infected by a werewolf attack?" he demanded.

Harry shook his head and said, "No. That's not true. She was attacked, she caught a claw on the back of her thigh, but she wasn't infected. It didn't bite her. She will however, have an unfortunate scar as the wound is cursed." Harry was surprised at how flat and neutral his voice sounded. "She'll be up and around by tomorrow."

"What happened?" Ron demanded.

"We were coming back from Hogsmead when we were attacked. Greyback was targeting Daphne. Hermione and I got knocked down the cliff when he jumped us. Hermione caught a claw then. We both lost our wands when we fell. I hit Greyback with a fae spell and knocked him back into the cliff. Neville got Hermione and her wand back up the cliff, and the knockback from the spell sent me out into the lake. When I got back up to the top with the help of one of my cousin's friends, Daphne was unconscious, and Luna, Hermione, and Neville were trying to keep it from getting to her. Professor Matthews waded in and started punching it while Neville and Luna got Daphne back to the castle. When Professor Matthews got clear, Hermione and I hit him with enough fire spells to leave nothing but bones."

"But that means that anybody bitten can't save themselves now," Ron said, his voice just half an octave away from being accusatory.

"I know what that means, Ron. I didn't last evening, but trust me, Professor Dumbledore made sure I knew what it means." He paused and said, "It's just one more of those things that nobody ever bothered to teach me about the wizarding world."

"But Remus!?" Ron protested.

"Ron," Harry said flatly, "Do you think I don't feel bad about this? But, I wouldn't change anything if I did know."

"What?" Ron asked shocked.

"He's right, Ronald," Remus's voice came from the tree-line. Harry looked over to his father's old friend and realized just how rough around the edges he was starting to look. Shaking his head, he said, "Greyback has been infecting the children of pure-blood families for decades and nobody has stopped him out of fear that one us would want to step up and cure ourselves. The problem is that none of us ever did. I can't blame him."

"Remus!" Harry said rushing over to where he stood and embraced him.

"How're you feeling, cub?" Remus asked.

Harry looked back to Ron and then over to him and said, "I was getting along up until just a few minutes ago."

Remus looked over at Ron and said, "I just talked to your parents. I'm glad they're okay."

"What happened?" Harry asked suddenly frightened for what he didn't know.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, the Carrows and half a dozen death eaters attacked the Burrow last night," Ron said.

"Is everyone okay?" Harry asked worriedly.

Ron nodded and said, "Only Mum and Dad were there. It would have been worse if that mysterious witch hadn't shown up. She killed Lestrange. Mum killed Amycus Carrow. Dad killed one of the others."

Harry looked at Remus and asked, "Another two pronged assault?"

Remus nodded. "We don't know who the real target was, the Greengrass girl, or the Weasleys. Either one would have been disastrous, both unthinkable."

"What does the Dark Lord get out of killing Daphne Greengrass? She's a Slytherin!"

"Elder Warlock Greengrass has consistently resisted joining the Dark Lord, in taking sides whatsoever," Remus said. "However, his maneuvering in the Wizengamot has caused both the Order of Phoenix and the Dark Lord difficulties."

"He's just trying to protect all the innocents who are caught in the middle," Harry felt the need to defend the older man who'd gone out of his way to help Harry learn more about his family and living in the wizarding world.

"I still don't get it. Greengrass is a Slytherin. Why wouldn't he be part of the Dark Lord's forces?" Ron demanded.

"Ron," Remus said, "Let it go. Just because someone is sorted into Slytherin, doesn't mean they're evil. If that were the case, then a full quarter or more of the British wizarding world would be evil."

"What about your folks? Are they okay?" Harry demanded.

Ron nodded and said, "Yeah. Like I said, that mysterious witch nobody knows showed up. Dad thinks the attack was a trap to bring her out in the open. LeStrange was bragging about a secret weapon the Dark Lord had to use against her." He shook his head and said, "It didn't though. Evidently, Lestrange tagged her with a special sword, but it didn't stop her. She put her own sword through Bellatrix's chest."

"Good," Harry said firmly. "Saves me the trouble."

"Harry!" Ron protested.

"I mean it Ron. I'm tired of people I care about dying. I'm tired of Voldemort targeting the people I care about, whether it's your parents, Sirius, or Daphne. If I have to, I'll take out his people one by one, until he's standing alone."

"You killed Greyback last night," Ron said, his voice dropping slightly as he seemed to realize that Harry was serious.

"That means Fenrir Greyback, the LeStranges, the Carrows, the Malfoys, or anybody else who hurts my friends and family," Harry told him darkly. Then turning to the redhead, "What else happened?"

"They burned down the Burrow, but the witch rebuilt it with magic, underground and out of stone this time. She said something about a house called the Burrow needs to be underground. It's more like a manor inside, but its all underground. And there are a lot of muggle devices in there that actually work. Dad can't figure it out."

Harry nodded. He had his own theories about this mysterious witch, but for now he was keeping his own counsel. "Ron, I know you don't believe this, but I'm glad your folks are okay."

"I don't think that," Ron protested.

Turning to Remus he asked, "And I appreciate you coming by, Remus. It means a lot to me."

Remus nodded to him and said, "You've changed, Harry. I can see a lot of your mother in you now, more so than James, I believe."

Harry nodded and said, "It's her birthright that changed me."

"We never knew," Remus said.

"She didn't want anyone to know," Harry said. "She made her choice to remain mortal."

"I'm not sure I like that word," Ron said.

"How do you think regular people feel who hear the term muggle? How about squib? They probably feel it the most. Words have meaning, Ron. As a wizard you should understand that the most. What word would you use to describe the differences between what I am now and what I was before I accepted my mother's birthright." Ron shook his head. Harry could see that something did come to mind, but he seemed to think better of it. Harry just shook his head and said, "I thought so."

"What do you plan to do now, Cub?" Remus asked.

"Voldemort has attacked myself, my friends, and my friend's family. Now I'm going to find out what it is that Professor Slughorn knows that Dumbledore needs to know, so we can move on ahead with this." He shook his head and said, "One way or another, we're going to end this before someone else gets killed." He turned and walked away. He had a lot to think about.

 **Harry Potter and the Fae Prince. Harry Potter and the Fae Prince.**

"And how are things going with my nephew?" Hunter's mother asked through the mirror known as the Well of Tomorrows.

"Under the circumstances, as well as can be expected. He's trapped being used as a weapon in a war between two wizards who trying to see who can mark higher on the tree."

"Is he in any danger?" she asked.

Hunter nodded. "He is, but I think it's manageable. There's much for him to gain by resolving it himself."

"With a little help from family and friends?" the Lady Jordan asked.

"Of course. Most of his friends are being quite helpful."

"Most, suggests that not all," Lady Jordan asked. "What is the issue?"  
"The usual," Hunter said. "Wizards who remember the old practice of fosterlings. Of course, in this case, it's a legitimate criticism."

"It was my aunt's decision," Jordan replied. "Mother had little say in the matter."

"It needs to stop," Hunter told her.

"Are you giving me orders?" she asked with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Do I need to?"

"You my boec, are becoming entirely too cheeky. I think the British wizards are not a good influence upon you."

"You said the same thing about the Alpha Knights."

"And I'm still not sure they weren't," she said. "You've developed a strange sense of humor. I blame Sean Matthews."

Hunter laughed and told her, "I will be sure to tell him that. He's currently here studying the merfolk of the Black Lake."

"So I've heard. He thinks he may have discovered a lost tribe of Sea Tyri. That would be extraordinary."

"And reason to make sure that this transition goes smoothly."

"You have learned your lessons of diplomacy well."

Hunter nodded. "I've had good teachers. It should be noted that this Voldemort has started targeting our mysterious little witch. She's caused him a great deal of disruption to his plan. And she's taken out the witch who was responsible for sending Sirius Black through the Veil."

"What have you discovered about that?"

"It's some kind of artifact in the Department of Mysteries. It dates back to the time of Lugh MacEthlenn. Beyond that, I'm not sure."

"Your father has ordered that the phenomenon be studied."

"A wise precaution," Hunter replied. "Do you have any further orders for me?"

"Just a request you keep me updated. I understand that Jareth is disrupting the banking industry there."

"He is auditing the books at Gringotts. I understand, that such an audit requires a formal inventory of all items in the vaults there. There have been quite a few stolen items that are quietly finding themselves returned to their rightful owners."

"Anything of interest to us?"

"Not so far, but I will keep my ear to the proverbial ground."

"Take care, Hunter."

"Don't I always?"

"No, and that's what worries me. I fear that one of these days that your moods will swing too low and take you too far from us for you to return."

"I will be careful, and will not drink from any werewolves again in the future."

"How are your supplies holding up?"

"Quite well. Lugh is an efficient estate captain."

"I love you, Hunter."

"I love you too, Mother. And tell my fathers and my cennend that I love them as well." And with that, Hunter closed the connection and sat down in a nearby chair.

"You're experiencing a nadir now, aren't you?" Sean asked from across the room out of sight of the mirror.

Hunter nodded and said, "Yes. But it's under control."

"Is there anything I can do?" Sean asked.

Hunter shook xyr head and said, "No. I just need time to recharge so to say. It's been a difficult few weeks, and playing several roles simultaneously is beginning to take it's toll on me."

"In that case, I have just the thing."

"What?" Hunter asked.

"Let me introduce you to my favorite vampire hunter." He held up a flash drive. "It's because of him that Jimmy and I get such a kick out of him being based out of Las Vegas."

"What's the name of the series?"

"The first movie was a Sunday Night Mystery movie called The Nightstalker."

"Well, put it in. I'll ask Lugh to prepare us some snacks."


	17. Becoming a Hag & Madam Pince Pinches

Nymphadora Tonks kept her face very neutral as she strode with confident steps through the Ministry, escorting Prince Hunter Daire to his meeting with Minister Bones. Silent, confident, and professional were exactly what she wanted to project, no matter how excited she was to actually have this duty. "If you will follow me, Your Highness," she said, stepping into the lift to take them to the minister's office.

"Thank you," the man replied softly stepping into the lift with her, his tail lolling back and forth lazily.

When the lift doors closed, the prince broke his silence, "You would be my cousin Harry's friend, Tonks?" She noted that he did not use her hated given-name.

"I am," she said quietly.

"Good. He needs friends," he said enigmatically. "Especially now."

Falling back on her professionalism, she said nothing else as the lift took them to the Minister's office and the doors opened. Stepping out first, she made sure that the lobby was cleared and then escorted the man past the rather shocked secretary and directly into Minister Bones' inner office. There they found Minister Bones sitting quietly with of all people, Delores Umbridge. There was an air of tension in the room. At the sight of the hated woman, Tonks felt her hair shift from its normal pink to a deep angry red.

Rising, the minister said, "This is an unexpected visit, Your Highness."

"Really?" Prince Hunter asked. "I would have assumed that you would have been informed of the incident at the school this past Saturday."

"I have," she said. "But why would that bring you here?"

"I understand that there is some issue over Harry and Miss Granger actually killing Greyback?" Hunter said.

"I see," Amelia said with a wan smile. "I've received my report from the aurors who investigated, and see no need to push the issue any further. Greyback was a monster, and he was attempting to attack Elder Warlock Greengrass' granddaughter. Mister Potter and his friends were perfectly within their rights to kill him."

"Hem hem," Umbridge said.

"I appreciate that, Minister," Prince Daire went right on with his business completely ignoring the call for attention. "Harry was concerned about it reflecting badly on his friends."

"No need for that," the minister said. "The matter has already been closed." She looked to Tonks and added, "Other more pressing issues are of concern to this office than the death of one werewolf terrorist."

"Hem hem," Umbridge repeated.

At this second interruption, Daire turned to her and said, "I was under the impression that Wizards and Witches in Britain had been taught better manners." He looked her up and down critically and then added, "And to dress more professionally."

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Your Highness. This is _very junior_ Undersecretary Delores Umbridge. Ms. Umbridge, this is His Royal Highness Hunter Daire of the Courts Immortal." It was clear that Minister Bones was not pleased with the interruption.

"Your cousin is Harry Potter?" she asked with a voice that dripped of honey. "I was unaware that Mr. Potter had any relatives of a non-human nature."

"My cousin's mother was fae, and my mother's sister. Is this an issue?" he asked.

"It's just that we have some very strict rules about magical creatures, here at the ministry," she said sweetly.

As if to emphasize her faux pas, one of the prince's black cat's ears rotated toward her. Then his eyes seemed to stare deep into the short toady woman's soul. He frowned, "Be careful what laws you push, Very Junior Undersecretary, for you may find yourself ruled by them yourself. You seem to be well on your way to become a hag."

"How dare you!" she protested.

Without changing his tone, he looked her up and down. "There's a deep darkness in your soul, madam, a dark evil that lurks there. I believe you once told my nephew that ou hated children. I can see it now with my othersight. It's growing. The charm you wear about your neck emanates the same darkness that comes from the Dark Lord and his mark." He paused as he continued to study her with some sight beyond sight. Then he added, "And since you have evidently never been touched by man, that means you are well on your way to becoming a hag. I would say within a few more decades the darkness will consume you. Too bad the centaurs didn't relieve you of that problem while you were in their care. Of course, I can't blame them. They are after all noble beings with great magic, and impeccable taste. It would possibly have spared you that fate. Do you perhaps know a troll? You might be able to convince one to help you out."

Umbridge's face boiled like a lobster in a pot at the casual comments. Her hand twitched at her side. Tonks stepped forward between the Prince and the unpleasant woman. "Please, Delores. Give me an excuse."

As if nothing had happened, Prince Daire turned again to the Minister and said, "If that is your ruling, then I believe our business is concluded."

"Uh, Your Highness," Bones interjected.

"I'm glad that we've reached an understanding here. However, my government, both the Wizengamot and Her Majesty's government has asked me to inquire about the possibility of Feyhold establishing an embassy here in London?"

"You want to invite in more crea...!" Tonks didn't hesitate.

"Pertrifcus Totalus!" she said reducing the woman to frozen state.

Daire nodded to her and smiled saying, "A young woman of quick wit and action." Turning back to the minister, he said, "Watch this one, she will go far. That is if she doesn't get herself killed first." Then, nodding his head toward Umbridge, he said, "I'm sure you can understand our reticence about such matters when even in your own government there are those who do not treat those who are not mortal with the respect they demand for themselves. Feyhold was founded to escape such attitudes."

"My deepest apologies, Your Highness," Bones said giving Tonks a sidelong glance. "I'm unsure as to why Undersecretary Umbridge was even here. But you can trust that this issue will be addressed."

Prince Daire simply nodded and said, "In that case, I will leave you to your work. I'm sure I can find my own way out." He turned to Tonks and said, "Thank you again for your assistance, Ms. Tonks. It's most appreciated." Smiling over to Umbridge, he added, "And were I you, I'd see to that locket. I'm unsure if she's being influenced by Voldemort, or if she's naturally unpleasant, but it does contain a darkness, a soul-shard if you would. I believe the shard is from the Dark Lord himself."

"I will see to it, Your Highness," Tonks told him. "I have the perfect person in mind."

"I'm sure you do," Daire replied and left the room.

A palpable tension drained from the minister's office when Daire had left the room. When it was clear that the man was out of ear shot, Minister Bones sighed and said, "Take that locket to Dumbledore and have him look at it. But first I want you to get a couple of aurors up here and escort Undersecretary Umbridge to a nice quiet office with a locked door and minus her wand. She and I are going to have a discussion about the behavior I expect from this office."

"Yes, ma'am," Tonks said with a smile. Reaching over, she removed the locket from Umbridge who stood stock-still, her face still red even through the effects of the spell. Dropping it into her vest pocket, she left to get the aurors. Finishing with that, she apparated to Hogsmead and made her way toward Hogwarts.

Arriving, she made a beeline to the headmaster's office where she found Dumbledore deep in conversation with Severus. "Headmaster, Severus," she said nodding to both men as she entered the room.

"Nymphadora," Dumbledore acknowledged her as she entered the room.

"Tonks," Severus at least had the decency not to use that hated name.

"To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?" the headmaster asked.

"Minister Bones sent me with something we confiscated from Delores Umbridge. Prince Daire said that he believed it contained a soul-shard from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Really?" Severus asked. "And how did he come to this conclusion?"

"How should I know? I'm not fae."

"Othersight, most probably," the professor said. "Some fae can literally see magic as it flows and pools."

"I sort of got that impression myself," she replied taking the locket from her pocket. "Umbridge claims that the locket is a family heirloom of the Selwyn family. But if you ask me, that "S" looks an awful lot like Salazar Slytherin's sigil."

Dumbledore took the locket and studied it. "You have a good eye, Nymphadora."

"I've asked you not to call me that," she said through gritted teeth.

Taking out his wand, Dumbledore waved it over the locket and studied it carefully. Then looking up to Severus, he said, "I believe that this confirms our suspicion. We don't really need Harry to get that information from Horace."

"It would still be useful to have firm confirmation," Severus countered, his voice soft and flat.

"Exactly how did you come by this, Nimph..., uh 'Dora?" Dumbledore asked.

"For some reason Umbridge managed to invite herself into a meeting between Daire and Bones about Harry killing Greyback. She was quite rude, and Daire put her in her place rather quickly. When she became abusive, I petrified her. Bones told me to bring the locket to you. She can't officially take sides, but she can divert certain items to you for study."

"Tell her I'm most appreciative."

Tonks nodded and asked, "How's Hermione?"

"She's taking a few days off to spend with her parents after what has happened."

"I can imagine," Tonks said.

"And Harry?" she asked.

"Quiet," he told her.

"I can't blame him really," she replied.

"Nor can I," Dumbledore said absently as he studied the locket.

Feeling that she'd been dismissed, she turned to leave the room with a nod to Fawkes. "Well, I'd better get back to the ministry."

"Thank you for your efforts, 'Dora." Dumbledore mumbled to her as she left.

* * *

Monday morning, Harry settled into his classes, keeping out a weather eye for Hermione, but she didn't show up. At lunch, he checked with Madam Ponfrey, only to find that she'd returned to her parents for a few days for some personal healing time. Harry couldn't blame them, or her. He just wished he'd been able to see her before she'd left.

However, he didn't have a lot of time as his cousin insisted that he be present in his conversation with Professor Dumbledore about the incident with Greyback. Deciding to use it the most productively as he could, he made a beeline for the library, and to the restricted section. This was a time when he wished the wizarding world was organized more like the muggles. A computer database right now would be quite helpful in finding the subjects he wanted. But as he'd once read, if wishes were horses, even poor men would ride. So, with a grim determination, he began to dig through the card catalog.

Within an hour, he had a large stack of books and was pouring through them. He had discovered something called a horcrux, but could find little information on it. It would seem that most of the books referenced in the ones he was reading had disappeared from the library, and he daren't ask Madam Pince. She wouldn't understand.

It was well into his lunch period when his stomach began to growl. But the idea of leaving off the chase, combined with the thought of the bland food at the Great Hall, was not enough to tempt him away from his search. "Man, I'm hungry."

"Harry Potter sir wants Dobby to get him something from the kitchen?" Dobby suddenly appeared with a pop.

Harry shook his head and said, "No. I don't think I can handle sawdust today, Dobby. What I really would like is something from Muriashome. But that's not something I'm likely to get anytime soon."

"Dobby will be right back!" the brownie said, and with another 'pop' he disappeared.

"But you can't appar..." but the brownie was already gone. "...inside Hogwarts."

Harry returned to his search shaking his head. He was deep in a paragraph that had to have been written at the height of the Regency Period for its wordiness and convoluted sentence structure when Dobby suddenly reappeared with a large pewter tray.

"Dobby didn't know what Harry Potter wanted so he brought sandwiches."

Harry looked at the tray stacked high with roast beef sandwiches, a fresh pickle and some strawberries, and a large cold goblet of what smelled like apple juice.

"I didn't know you could do that," Harry said.

"Hogwarts magic does not affect elf-magic!" Dobby said. "If it did, we couldn't do our jobs!"

"Well, thanks, Dobby. I appreciate it." Then he took a huge bite of the roast beef sandwich and felt his taste buds nearly explode with delight as he could finally taste the nuances of the bread, the spiciness of the mustard, and a hint of cayenne pepper. Quickly he wolfed down the food as he continued to piece together what a horcrux was and what it took to make one. The latter nearly put him off his lunch, but not much could come between a teenage boy and his appetite.

"Food is not generally allowed in the library," Madam Pince said coming around the corner.

"I'm sorry, Madam Pince. I didn't want to leave the research. Dobby was kind enough to get me some food."

Looking at the pile of books and then at Harry, she said, "This kind of research is usually Miss Granger's wheelhouse, Mr. Potter. What gives?"

"I need information for myself, Madam Pince, and I can't always count on someone else to be able to get it for me."

"A wise attitude," she said eyeing the single strawberry left on the plate. Before Harry could protest, she popped it into her mouth, and said, "Carry on."

She got a half a step before she winked out of reality.

"Dobby!" Harry nearly shouted. "Take the tray and food back to Muriashome before someone else does that! I am so stupid!"

"Yes, Harrry Potter, sir!"

"Pop!" Dobby disappeared as Harry began to thin the veil between this reality and fairy. It was something he hadn't had a lot practice doing and it took him several moments to manage to pass through the veil.

The library on the other side was a vast airy structure with long rows of bookshelves that reached high into a cloudless sky. Sunlight streamed between the stacks and fairies and pixies glided through the air carrying pens and parchment. In the distance, he could make out a slight young woman dressed not unlike Madam Pince wandering through the stacks looking entirely entranced.

Running to catch up with her, he found the woman although to be wearing the same severe dress as Madam Pince, the same witch's hat, and even the same cameo at her throat, was much younger, much more attractive. "Madam Pince?" Harry asked.

"Irma," the woman said with a pleasant smile that turned her vulture like countenance into something much more pleasant. Looking around, she asked, "Where am I?"

"The library, Madam Pince. On the fairy side of the veil."

"Oh dear. How did that happen?"

"It's my fault, I shouldn't have been eating in the library."

"No, you shouldn't have," the young woman almost giggled as she grew considerably younger. "But I'll forgive you this time." Then she quickly began to fan herself. "Oh dear, I'm suddenly very hot."

Harry bit his tongue and didn't comment on how true what she said was. "Madam Pince, I need to get you out of fairy before you turn into a baby!"

"A baby?! Don't be silly."

"Please, Ma'am. Take my hand."

She smiled at him coquettishly. "If you've insist. It's been some time since a handsome young man held my hand." She took his hand in her dainty grip.

Before she could pull away, Harry thinned the veil again and stepped through, pulling a much younger Madam Pince through after him. Much to his surprise, the older woman now had the very shapely figure of a woman in her mid-twenties. "Oh dear. I'd better get you to Madam Pomfrey."

"Poppy? Why on earth for? I feel fine."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. "But fairy has unexpected effects on mortals. I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" she demanded.

"Let's get you to the infirmary and I can explain."

Five minutes later, Madam Pomfrey was staring in amazement at Madam Pince. "If this is the effect going to fairy has on one, I think I'll book a trip myself," the older nurse said. She noted that Madam Pince was flirting outrageously with Harry, even going so far as to pinch his bum at one point.

Harry shook his head and said, "It depends on a lot of things. Depending on how you get there, which direction you face, and what you're doing, it can just as easily have the opposite effect. You could end up an old hag."

Madam Pomfrey nodded her head and said, "Oh dear."

"Exactly. Is there anything you can do for her?" Harry asked.

"Besides sober her up, I'm not sure that she would want me to do anything," Madam Pomfrey said. "Just what did she drink to get this tipsy?"

"She ate a single strawberry from my tray."

"From your tray?" Madam Pomfrey demanded. "What tray?"

"Dobby brought me some lunch from home. It was fae food."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, and guided the now rather spry librarian to a bed and got her to lay back. After a quick spell to get her to sleep she stood and looked at Harry and said, "You can't bring any more of that food to Hogwarts. If one of the students were to eat some, the results could be disastrous!"

"I know," Harry said, his mind feeling every ounce of the contrition in his voice.

She nodded again and said, "Go ahead. I'll take care of her."

"Thank you," Harry said as he headed back to the library to gather his notes.


End file.
